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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695402">Life is a Road (That I Wanna Keep Going)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedragon32/pseuds/firedragonworks'>firedragonworks (firedragon32)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anastasia (1997), Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adam (Voltron) Angst, Adam (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Adam (Voltron) is a Mess, Adam is Shiro's bodyguard, Adam's grandfather is a bitch with a capital B, Altean Hunk (Voltron), Altean Lance (Voltron), Altean Pidge | Katie Holt, Altean Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997) Fusion, Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, BAMF Adam (Voltron), BAMF Allura (Voltron), BAMF Coran (Voltron), BAMF Romelle (Voltron), BAMF Shiro (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood and Violence, Con Artist Lance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Galra Adam - Freeform, Garrison trio, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), Hunk &amp; Lance &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith Shiro and Allura are half-siblings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lesbian Pidge, M/M, Minor Character Death, Missing Persons, Nightmares, Of Which There Are Many, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Prince Keith (Voltron), Prince Shiro (Voltron), Princess Allura (Voltron), Sharing a Bed, Shiro (Voltron) Angst, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Slow Burn, So much angst, Whump, are pidge and hunk the only functional characters?, broganes, half-altean keith, horror in chapter 8, keith doesn't really because he can't even remember what he's supposed to be traumatized about, krolia and alfor were married but it was an arranged marriage, mentioned racism toward alteans, no beta we die like rasputin, no smut because I am babey, pop-culture references, whoops there's that tag now, yes. yes they are</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:09:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedragon32/pseuds/firedragonworks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in centuries, the Galra and Altean kingdoms were united. Akira Kogane-Shirogane, the son of the late king and queen, was the symbol of this union. He, along with his half-siblings Takashi and Allura, were destined to rule the kingdoms when they all came of age.</p><p>But then everything changed.</p><p>A group of Galra extremists were determined to bring down the new regime. In a horrific attack on the palace, dozens of soldiers, servants, and nobles were massacred--and Akira disappeared. Shiro and the others fled to the safety of Altea. They searched for the lost prince for months...</p><p>...but Akira was never seen again.</p><p>Years later, an orphan boy chases the ghosts of a past he has lost. Keith has these dreams--elegant parties, eerily familiar faces, a warm embrace--and he's desperate to find where he came from. His only clue? A dagger with the inscription, "Together in Altea." With the help of a kind engineer, a snarky tech genius, and a smooth con man with a mysterious past, Keith may find the key to finding his family.</p><p>But dark forces are rising, an ancient evil that is determined to find the lost prince…and finish the job. No matter who gets in the way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam &amp; Keith (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura &amp; Coran (Voltron), Allura &amp; Keith (Voltron), Allura &amp; Shiro &amp; Adam &amp; Keith, Allura &amp; Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Coran &amp; Romelle (Voltron), Coran &amp; Shiro (Voltron), Hunk &amp; Keith (Voltron), Hunk &amp; Lance (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith &amp; Romelle (Voltron), Keith &amp; Shiro (Voltron), Keith and Kosmo, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt, Past Alfor/Krolia, Romelle &amp; Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's a <a href="https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEJXuzcRLpH5GOBACnG9_eyF3Is9n4hn4">playlist</a> for this fic! As always, my dm and the comment section are always open for song suggestions!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I recently rewatched Anastasia (1997) with the fam for the first time in about a decade, and next thing I knew, THIS happened! *gestures wildly*</p><p>The fic title was taken from "At the Beginning" by Donna Lewis and Richard Marx. It's the song that plays in the end credits of this movie :)</p><p>Welcome to my spur-of-the-moment, 100% self indulgent, shitty au!! Note that I'm only ROUGHLY basing this off of the movie. I will be adding quite a few of my own embellishments!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Akira, stand still,” Allura hissed under her breath. The young prince stopped his fidgeting with a huff of annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood at the very back of the room, in front of the grand thrones that had stood empty for nearly a decade. Nobody was to sit in the royal thrones after the death of King Alfor and Queen Krolia-not even the royal children. Not until they came of age and shouldered the responsibilities of the two kingdoms between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the floor below, colors flashed as people waltzed to the smooth music flowing through the room. Akira wished he was down there, dancing with his siblings and friends instead of standing up on the podium; but he and Allura had to stay there, and Leandro would be in the kitchens helping prepare for the fancy meal that would be served later that evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura hissed at him again to stop his fidgeting. Akira resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his sister; Allura was nearly twelve, and she had the bad habit of bossing him around just because she was four years older.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro was older than </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them, but he wasn’t bossy at all. Akira was very fond of his brother, though he rarely saw him. As the eldest of the three half-siblings, Shiro had the most duties, travelling between Altea and Daibazaal to meet with nobles and officers, despite his young age. Even at sixteen Shiro was an excellent leader, always able to make the right calls and stay cool even in a room full of diplomats who hated him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, Akira loved both of his siblings, but Shiro was his favorite. Shiro often brought him gifts from his travels to Altea; or course, he brought gifts to Allura as well, but the latter never gave gifts to Akira so he liked Shiro better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro was nice. He was fun to play with, and even though he was old, he wasn’t boring. Even if Akira had had more siblings than two, Shiro would still be his favorite brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reason why Akira couldn’t keep still was that his brother was coming to visit after nearly six whole pheobs of royal duties in Altea. He was bringing along his friend and bodyguard Adam, and the Altean royal that Allura would be betrothed to when she came of age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira thought that was gross, but he’d met Romelle in passing, and he was fond of the Altean. Last time she’d visited, she had helped him and Leandro sneak into the kitchens to steal some juniberry tarts, right off the oven rack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira had been reluctant to take advantage of the cook’s hard work, but Leandro, a boy who worked in the kitchens, and the only child in the palace who was Akira’s age, insisted that the tarts were going to be eaten anyway, and that no harm would be done. Romelle, who shared Leandro’s mischievous flair, had strongly agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira also liked Adam, the Galra who went everywhere with Shiro. He was the coolest person Akira had ever met; he was also Shiro’s bodyguard, which meant he had a whole array of knives and swords that he let Akira look at. He was fast and strong and brave; the perfect warrior, and everything Keith wanted to be. According to Shiro, he wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Adam, but Adam said it the other way around. There were many stories about the times they’d saved each other’s lives on their adventures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira liked Romelle and Adam; they were silly and fun, and loved playing pranks on Allura and Shiro. And they didn’t tease him about how he looked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of Akira’s friends and siblings were Altean; from Allura’s pink markings to Shiro’s purple to Romelle’s blue-green to Leandro’s ocean blue, to match his eyes. Adam, of course, was Galra, with dark purple fur and yellow eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The royal siblings all had white hair; for Shiro, it was the floof of white bangs. He dyed the rest of his hair black, as it was a common style in Altea at the time. Allura’s hair was all tumbling curls of pure silvery white, identical to her mother’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira, however, was different. His father, King Alfor, had been married to the queen of Daibazaal, Queen Krolia. A Galra. Akira’s mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira did have white hair, yes, but the bright color was broken up by streaks of inky black that he had inherited from his own mother. His eyes were a rare shade of violet, his markings an even rarer shade of bright, vibrant red. The skin of his back and shoulders was tinged dark purple, as well as his hands and forearms. He had the fluffy ears common among the Galra, though they were smaller and pointier than usual. Akira also had the beginnings of Galra markings stretching up his cheeks, though they were very faint; Adam predicted that they would grow darker as Akira grew older.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In short, Akira looked strange; an odd mash-up of two very different peoples from two very different kingdoms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the diplomats from other countries murmured under their breaths to their partners how </span>
  <em>
    <span>odd</span>
  </em>
  <span> the little prince looked, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>different.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They always forgot that Akira had inherited the sharp hearing of the Galra, and could hear every word. To his face, they said he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>unusual.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira was old enough to know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>unusual</span>
  </em>
  <span> was just another word for </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was broken from his thoughts by the massive doors swinging open with a triumphant fanfare. The procession began to trolley through, hordes of nobles and advisers and their partners and children and cousins. And at the very front…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira nearly vibrated with excitement as he caught sight of his brother, striding at the front of the procession with his shoulders back and his head held high. He cut an impressive figure in his Altean teal colors, a circlet of silver gleaming in his two-toned hair. The scar across the bridge of his nose did nothing to diminish his smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his side was Adam, dressed in black and vibrant purple. He’d once taught Akira how to tell if someone was carrying a weapon; now the boy could see the way Adam’s cloak hung on his figure, and he knew the Galra was concealing weapons. Such was his job as a bodyguard. Adam’s ears were pricked forward, an easy smile on his face as he walked beside his friend. Being Galra, even though he wasn’t yet full-grown, Adam towered over both his companions; Shiro only reached his shoulder, and the other Altean was even shorter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On Shiro’s other side was Romelle. Beside Akira, Romelle straightened her spine, marks glowing with bashful excitement. The other Altean princess had very long blonde hair in intricate braids that made Akira dizzy just to look at; her skin was pale beneath the bright lights, a shy smile set on her mouth. Akira had only ever seen Romelle be shy whenever she was with Allura.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three walked up the stairs to where Akira and Allura waited; Adam dropped to one knee, fist coming to his chest in salute; Shiro inclined his head, and Romelle did the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura called for them to rise, and the royal announcer made introductions. Akira tuned him out; it was boring, and he wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>so badly</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go hug his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> introductions were finished, and everyone’s attention returned to the party. The royal siblings, having greeted the guests, returned to a private room for a reunion. The moment he was freed from Allura’s iron grip, Akira bounded forward, launching himself at Shiro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed into his brother’s chest, wrapping his arms and legs around the other’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro let out a surprised laugh, stumbling back a bit with the sudden weight; Adam steadied him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, there, ‘Kira. Miss me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira shook his head, burying his face in Shiro’s chest. When Shiro laughed, Akira felt it rumble through his whole body. He wanted to hug his brother and never let go, but Shiro couldn’t just stand there all night; he had duties to attend to. Reluctantly, Akira let him go, pouting a bit as Shiro ruffled his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s good to see you, Akira,” he said with a smile. “I’ve missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam came next, tackling Akira in a hug. “Sneak attack!” He yelled, grabbing Akira’s legs and swinging him upside down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince squealed, clutching Adam’s forearms. “Don’t drop me!” He wailed, partially from delight, and partially from real fear; Adam really was very tall, and when he lifted Akira it was like a giant had picked him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Adam said, his upside-down face grinning at Keith. “I could never drop you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released Akira, letting the young prince get his feet under him before letting go completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Adam, must you?” Allura said, running a hand through Akira’s now-disheveled hair. “Coran worked so hard on his hair tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Princess,” Adam said, though he didn’t sound very sorry. He pulled her in for a hug. “He sneak attacked me. I had no choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura huffed indignantly, though she hugged him back tightly. “I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Adam. I saw the whole thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam scoffed as they pulled away. “You can’t prove anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, she can,” Shiro said, stepping forward to embrace his sister. “She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the princess, Adam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Galra huffed, flicking his ears in mock annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has been too long,” Allura murmured into Shiro’s shoulder. “Can’t you stay longer than a single night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed. “Sorry. There are matters I need to attend to back at Altea. Urgent matters. I’m lucky I was able to get away for this long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What he means by that,” Adam interjected with a stern glance at the crown prince, “is that I had to threaten his advisers to clear up some time for him to come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro rolled his eyes. “And you absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> that, didn’t you, Adam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Galra shrugged, flicking his wrist; a small throwing knife appeared in his hand. He casually spun it around his fingers. “It’s a very useful skill, Takashi dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira yelped as a pair of arms wrapped around his middle, lifting him into the air for the second time that night. Romelle, evidently tired of standing at the sidelines as the siblings and Adam reunited, had scooped the young prince into her arms, spinning around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as frightening as it had been with Adam; Romelle was much shorter, and so Akira was closer to the ground. And he wasn’t upside-down this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hellooooooooo!” Romelle exclaimed. She set him down, and he swayed dizzily, the room spinning. She ruffled his hair affectionately before moving to embrace Allura.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s probably about time we return to the party,” Shiro said, glancing at the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura nodded, cheeks flushed. She led the way from the room, Romelle on her heels. Shiro took hold of Akira’s hand and led him out of the room and into the main hall, Adam following behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The party was in full swing, dancers twirling down below in a myriad of bright colors. Allura and Romelle darted down the stairs to join them, chattering in excitement, their previous shyness disappeared for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Akira could follow, Shiro stopped him. “Adam and I have something for you,” he said. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew an intricately carved leather sheath. Akira gasped as Shiro held it out to him; it was a deep maroon, with intricate carvings of proud lions with flowing manes and fierce teeth. Akira hesitantly ran his fingers over the smooth leather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Adam said, stepping forward. He helped Akira fix the sheath to his belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Akira whispered in awe. He beamed at his brother and friend. “This is the best gift you’ve ever given me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam chuckled. “Woah there, samurai. Wait for the best part!” The bodyguard reached into his cloak and withdrew a knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blade was silver, the hilt a deep purple. It gleamed in the light, and Akira’s eyes widened even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam held the knife close so Akira could see. “This is luxite,” he murmured as the boy’s eyes traced where the light glinted off the metal. “It’s what my own blades are made from. Strongest metal ever made. It’s what true warriors use.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira swallowed, nerves thrumming with excitement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>True warriors.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Like Adam. Like Shiro. Like Mother had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look here, at the inscription.” Shiro pointed near the hilt. Akira didn’t know what that word meant, but he peered closer where his brother indicated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Words were carved into the metal, jagged yet elegant in their design. He squinted at them, trying to decipher them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Patience yields focus.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira wasn’t very surprised Shiro had put that phrase there; the crown prince always said that whenever he needed to calm down, or to help Akira during long meetings or speeches. It was their little phrase that they shared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Show him the other side,” Adam urged. Shiro turned the knife over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Together in Altea,” Akira read, fingers tracing the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to be away a lot,” Shiro said softly, “but as long as you can see those words, I’ll always be with you.” He grinned up at Adam. “Both of us will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira threw his arms around them both. “Thank you,” he whispered, feeling the prick of tears. He was crushed between his brother and Adam as they both returned his hug, but Akira didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After pulling away, Adam showed him how to store the knife in the sheath they’d given him. “Don’t accidentally chop your leg off,” the young Galra instructed cheerfully as he helped Akira secure it. “Allura would have my head!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After promising them both he would be careful, Akira raced away into the crowd, eager to find Leandro and show him his new treasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he ran face first into a solid pair of legs with a muffled </span>
  <em>
    <span>oomph</span>
  </em>
  <span> of surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira backpedaled frantically, looking up to see who he had run into. A shiver ran down his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak glowered down at him, inclining his head only the slightest bit. “Your Highness,” he rumbled frostily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira could only nod shakily in response; he didn’t like Sendak. He remembered Allura and Shiro talking about him getting in big trouble once, though Akira couldn’t remember why he had. All he remembered was that there were a lot of soldiers. And a lot of doctors, and even more hurt people.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not a nice man,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Allura had said when Akira had asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay away from him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Only barely remembering his manners, Akira gave a stilted nod. “General Sendak,” he murmured under his breath, managing not to stutter his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak regarded him coldly, his calculating gaze pinning Akira to the floor. His cloak was hanging strangely; Akira’s eyes widened when he realized that the Galra had weapons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could speak up, Sendak stepped back and melted into the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira had to tell Shiro that Sendak was here. He tried to find his brother, but everyone around him was too tall. The young prince pushed through the crowd, a little hand on his new knife so he wouldn’t lose it as he slowly made his way back to the stairs. From there, he was able to find Shiro, standing about twenty feet away and surrounded by nobles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira leapt into the crowd again, pushing through the masses of grown-ups. Finally, he reached the crowd-only to find that Shiro had moved farther in, blocked by a wall of people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Adam was nearby; Akira reached up and tugged on his cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Galra glanced down, and, seeing Akira, knelt to get on the boy’s level. His gold eyes twinkled merrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it? You need help sneaking into the kitchens?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira shook his head and leaned forward to whisper in Adam’s ear. “That mean guy is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s brow furrowed, ears tilted in confusion. “Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sundick,” Akira whispered, accidentally mispronouncing the name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam froze. “Did you mean…Sendak?” His voice was a harsh, rushed whisper. “Sendak’s here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira nodded. All at once, Adam’s countenance changed. No longer was he the playful, mischievous teenager. Now he was the bodyguard, sworn to protect Shiro and his siblings with his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned forward, hissing into Akira’s ear. “Stay close to me.” Adam stood, taking hold of Akira’s hand before pushing through the crowd toward Shiro. When they reached the crown prince, Adam leaned forward and murmured into Shiro’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira couldn’t hear what Adam said, but Shiro’s face dropped into an expression that almost looked…afraid. That couldn’t be right; Shiro wasn’t afraid of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam wasn’t either…but from the way his tail flicked, and his ears swiveled around, and his eyes darted in all directions to assess threats, and his free hand flexed on the handle of one of his blades, Adam </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira was scared now, huddling closer to the older Galra and his brother. “What’s happening?” He couldn’t keep the fear from his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Shiro answered, his voice was hard. “Hopefully nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping Akira between them, free hands on weapons, the teens made their way back to the podium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak stood there, a cruel gleam in his eye. “Hello, Shiro. Adam. I see you’ve brought the half-breed bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira didn’t know what those words meant, but the tone in Sendak’s voice said everything. Shiro’s grip tightened on Akira’s hand. “You’re not welcome here,” he bit out. “Leave immediately before I summon the guards.” Shiro’s voice was hard and firm, more so than Akira had ever heard before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak chuckled. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a score to settle, Your Highness. One that involves a certain little…princeling.” His sharp gaze landed on Akira.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam stepped in front of Akira, drawing his blades with a musical ring of metal. “Stay the hell away from him,” he snarled, ears turning back, tail lashing with fury. Akira had never heard Adam sound so…dangerous. “Leave now, or I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> you leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, the prince’s little attack dog.” He sneered at Adam. “I wonder, will you ever realize your true potential? Or will you keep following after your prince like a mindless beast begging for affection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira didn’t know what happened. One moment, Adam was standing right in front of him, and the next, he was pinning Sendak against the banister, swords crossed at his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t beg,” Adam growled. “But if <em>you</em> do, I just might let you leave here alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak grinned, sharp fangs showing; he didn’t seem bothered by the swords at his throat or the angry Galra in his face. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he purred. “You see…nobody is leaving here alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the room erupted.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Noise. Screaming, shouting, the sound of blades being drawn. The shatter of windows, the whoosh of flames as the carpet and curtains ignited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira reared back in terror, ears flat against his head, clutching Shiro’s hand tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sendak roared, kicking Adam hard in the chest and sending him flying. The Galra slammed hard into the wall, crumpling to the ground. His swords fell with a metallic clatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adam!” Shiro cried, running to him. Akira stumbled, struggling to keep up with his brother’s huge strides. Shiro fell to his knees beside his bodyguard, propping the other up so he leaned against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘M fine,” Adam grunted, eyes squinted shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shiro?” Akira’s voice was small as he pressed closer to the two. “What’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s eyes slid open, focusing on the two princes. “Sendak attacked,” he snarled, wincing. “He must have had more men in the crowd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s already iron grip on Akira’s hand tightened even more. “What do we do?” He asked, looking to his bodyguard. “How do we get ‘Kira to safety?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam struggled to sit up fully, hissing in pain as he reached for his swords. He pulled the blades closer, fingers curling around the hilt. “You. Go,” he panted. “Get him out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No!” Shiro’s other hand came to Adam’s forearm. “I’m not leaving you here to die!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s lips ticked upward in a small, sad smile. “That’s my job,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “I won’t,” he hissed fiercely. “I won’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira said, pressing in close to his brother’s side, desperate for comfort amongst the screams and wails and coppery scent of blood. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s happening?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s gold eyes fixed on Shiro’s gray. “You have to,” he said. “Get him out of here.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Shiro’s. “Get </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of here,” he whispered. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s grip tightened on Adam’s forearm, his eyes slipping closed. “I’ll come back for you,” he promised. “Once Akira’s out, I’m coming back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood and stepped back as Adam knelt before Akira. The bodyguard did the same as he had to Shiro, pressing his forehead to Akira’s. “Be brave, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mali ratnik,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Adam whispered, before rising to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira was yanked to the side by Shiro as Sendak suddenly shot forward, a massive two-handed sword cleaving the air where Akira had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam charged forward with a roar, his twin blades curving up to meet Sendak’s. The two forces met with the deafening ring of metal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro yanked Akira into another room, away from the sounds of battle and flame and death. Tears streamed down the crown prince’s cheeks as the sounds of Adam and Sendak’s battle faded behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran without stopping, Akira struggling to keep up with his short legs. They turned a corner and ran right into a pair of bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle and Allura yelped, holding up weapons, before seeing Shiro and Akira.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura let out a cry of relief and pulled both her brothers into a hug. “We don’t know what’s happening,” she exclaimed, squeezing Akira tight. “One minute everything was fine, and now-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Shiro cut in, voice tight. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle’s voice cut through the sibling’s hug. “Where’s Adam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro pulled away from Allura, glancing down and scrubbing the tears from his cheeks. “He’s…doing his job,” Shiro whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura and Romelle exchanged an uneasy glance. “Let’s get out of here,” Romelle said, turning back to the boys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro nodded, pulling himself back together. “Let’s go,” he said. “There’s an exit that way, through the gardens.” He pointed ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura nodded. “According to protocol, there should be a carriage waiting to take us to safety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group of four began to run through the halls and rooms of Akira’s home. The screams and shouts of their guests were spilling out into the rest of the palace as partygoers desperately fled from the main hall, pursued by the attackers. One such group spilled out of a set of doors, right behind the girls and right in front of Shiro and Akira. Shiro skidded to a stop; the girls, not noticing, kept running until they disappeared around the next corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guests sprinted away to safety, and those that had been following them turned on Shiro and Akira. They all held wicked blades, dripping with red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira was frozen to the spot in terror as the nearest Galra bared his fangs in a vicious grin, eyes fixed on the youngest prince. “Half-breed scum,” he hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro pulled on Akira’s arm, swinging him around to sprint in the other direction. The shouts and pounding of steps that sounded behind them had Akira’s heart galloping in his little chest as the two brothers scrambled into the next hallway, staying just ahead of their pursuers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira had never felt so afraid, with the scent of smoke and blood in his nostrils, and the shouts of the Galra chasing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro turned a sharp corner, pulling Akira into another room. He immediately latched the door, dragging a heavy chair over to keep the door closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That should hold them,” he gasped, stepping back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira flinched as the door shook. Muffled shouts came from the other side, and the door rattled again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re breaking through,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira thought, ears laying flat against his head in terror. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re going to get in!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was the sound of a door opening, a soft creak. Akira let out a tiny yelp of fear, but it was a different door. And out came Leandro. His hair was disheveled, his clothes torn, but his gaze was blue steel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Highnesses,” he hissed, getting Shiro’s attention. “This way!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro took hold of Akira’s hand and pulled him after Leandro. The kitchen boy ran to the other end of the room and pressed his hands flat against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Akira’s amazement, the wall began to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It slid open, revealing a dark corridor with winding wooden stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t hesitate, shoving Akira through the hidden entrance. Akira’s sheath fell from his belt with a dull clatter, and he turned back with a cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akira, come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro cried, pushing him through. Akira had only just gotten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he was shoved into the secret passageway, the knife clutched in his grip, the sheath still on the wooden floor by Leandro’s feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro turned to get Leandro through, but the boy waved him away. “You first, Your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older boy clearly didn’t like it, but Shiro ducked his head to enter the secret tunnel first. Leandro was about to follow when there was a sharp splintering sound from the other door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were breaking through, and there wasn’t time for Leandro to get in without them all being seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leandro, no-” Shiro started, but the kitchen boy’s eyes narrowed in determination, and the wall slid closed in Shiro’s face. Leandro was still on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leandro,” Akira whispered, fear and tears clouding his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Muffled voices filtered through the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are they, boy?” A gruff voice came, low and growly and angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Leandro cried. He sounded terrified. “I tried to go with them, but they left me here! They went that way! Plea-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk,</span>
  </em>
  <span> then the sound of a body hitting the ground. That same cruel voice came again. “That yapping was getting annoying. Let’s go get that half-breed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro was crouching behind Akira, quietly nudging him along. The half-Galra began to walk, stumbling over the wooden stairs as he fought to hold back a sob. Akira heard what he was sure was a sob from behind him, from Shiro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First Adam. Now Leandro. How many more of Akira’s friends would be left behind?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked for what seemed like forever before they reached a dead end. Waiting for all to be quiet on the other end, Shiro slowly pushed the door open. They exited the secret passage into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Shiro whispered, pointing. “That’s where they keep all the emergency carriages. If we hurry, we’ll make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They began to run, jumping over fallen trays of food. There were people laying in the kitchen, surrounded by red. Akira didn’t think it was juice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pushed out into the courtyard, into chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Party guests and servants raced in all directions, screaming in panic. Among the chaos, soldiers and guards ran, trying to find where the threat was. Ahead, the last of the emergency carriages were pulling away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle and Allura were leaning out the window, heads turning in all directions. Romelle saw Shiro and Akira first, pointing with a cry of relief that was drowned out from the utter pandemonium from all around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sprinted for the carriage as it began to move, slowly picking up speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaped onto the back, holding tight to Akira’s hand as the carriage began to move faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira screamed as his hand slipped from Shiro’s grip. “Shiro!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crown prince turned, desperately lunging for Akira’s hand, but the young prince was too far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run, Akira!” Shiro shouted, eyes blown wide with fear.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “RUN!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He did, pumping his short legs and sprinting with all his might. He reached forward, for his brother, for Shiro. The other did the same, desperately reaching for his little brother. Their hands grazed once, twice, and then Akira tripped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was in slow motion. Shiro’s terrified gray eyes as his brother fell behind. The muted colors of the panicked crowd around them. The ground, the rock, coming up to meet Akira’s eyes as he fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pain blazed across Akira’s skull, horrible, awful white pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then</span>
</p><p>
  <span>everything</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>went</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>knew</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>no</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>more.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Adam is a BADASS in this house!!</p><p>This was originally going to be a oneshot, but, predictably, it got away from me so now we have a multichapter au on our hands! I hadn't been planning on writing a whole lot of adashi content, but uhh I love them, your honor. So we'll be checking in a bit with the other royal siblings as the story goes on :)))</p><p>I'll probably be taking a short break from my other fics to finish this one as fast as I can. It'll be nice stepping back from my other WIPs to indulge in a fusion with one of my favorite movies :)</p><p>Croatian translation:<br/>mali ratnik: little warrior<br/>I'm using Croatian for the "Galra" language in this fic. It just seemed like it fit :)</p><p>Kudos and comments appreciated! Make a girl's day and tell me what you liked!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whoops it's angst</p><p>just angst</p><p>I'm so sorry</p><p>...mostly</p><p>TW: blood and injury</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Terror. Horrible, absolute, indescribable terror, the likes of which he'd never known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he did know it, that awful night. As he left his bodyguard, his best friend, behind to fight a battle he couldn’t possibly win; as that brave little kitchen boy sacrificed himself to help the royal princes to safety; and now, watching his little brother, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby brother,</span>
  </em>
  <span> fall behind and be swallowed by the mob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was a wordless wail of pure agony as his brother's tiny body disappeared into the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gone. Just…gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shiro!" Allura shouted. "Get inside!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have to stop!" Shiro screamed desperately. He almost didn't recognize his own voice. "We have to go back!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We cannot!" Romelle cried, eyes wide. "They'll kill us!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking have to go back!!"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro shrieked, on the verge of hysterics. "Akira's back there!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your Highness!" Snapped a new voice. Coran, Allura and Akira's butler. "We cannot risk losing you! With the capital of Daibazaal fallen along with all of the nobles and politicians, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the only ruler left for our kingdoms! You must remain safe!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro felt a yawning pit open in his chest, a black abyss of loss. He hated it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> it--but Coran was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would do no good for anyone if Shiro went back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam, little Leandro… their sacrifices would have all been for nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm so sorry, Akira.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro peered through the trees at the palace as it rapidly shrunk behind them. For a moment, everything was still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the palace exploded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound came a moment later, a rumbling </span>
  <em>
    <span>boom</span>
  </em>
  <span> that plastered Shiro to the back of the carriage with the force of the shockwave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pillar of smoke and flame where the palace had stood only moments before. There would have been people still inside. Guests and servants hiding, soldiers trying to neutralize the threat, doctors trying to treat the wounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think about it. If he did, if Shiro thought about all the lives that surely must have been lost tonight, he would lie down and never rise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shiro!" Coran's voice came again, sharp and urgent, piercing through the ringing in Shiro’s ears. "Come inside, now! I need your help!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving his broken heart in pieces on the pavement behind, Shiro slid into the carriage proper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm so, so sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sharp tang of blood flooded his nostrils, and Shiro reared back in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura was up front guiding the driver to the border, to the nearest hidden safe house, but Romelle was sitting in the carriage, cradling someone's head on her lap and stroking his hair with shaking fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure was covered in so much blood that Shiro barely recognized him, but when he did, his breath hitched and his stomach bottomed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A-Adam?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's wounded, badly," Coran explained tersely, without preamble; he was pressing his butler's jacket to Adam's side; the fabric was already turning red. "Help me put pressure on this-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn't need to be told twice. He shed his own jacket, the fine teal fabric shimmering beneath the lights of the carriage as he pressed the jacket to the gaping wound in Adam's side, not caring that the expensive garment was now ruined.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ancients, please,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro thought, his already agonized heart aching even more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can't lose Adam, too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro pressed his jacket against Adam’s wound, ignoring how the blood was seeping between his fingers as it slowly soaked the jacket. Meanwhile, Coran bustled about, digging through seat compartments to try and find something for bandages. He and Shiro traded places after a time, and Shiro set to searching for something, anything, that would save his best friend’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he tore through the carriage’s compartments, hands slicked with Adam’s blood, Shiro felt like he was watching everything from far away. His heart was a deep, empty pit of black; it hurt too much to feel anything, so Shiro didn’t. His movements were automatic, robotic. If he thought about Akira, or the way Adam’s blood smeared over everything he touched, Shiro was sure he would be crushed by despair. So he didn’t. He just did everything he could to keep from losing anyone else he loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The bleeding has slowed," Coran declared finally, pulling back, "but not enough. I will need to stitch the wounds."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you even have the supplies?" Romelle's voice was thin and tremulous, but Shiro was surprised to hear her speak at all. He was so shocked and afraid he could barely function, and she was years younger; she had to be as utterly terrified as Shiro was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I grabbed my medical kit when I heard the fighting," Coran said, taking out said kit. "I knew my services would be required."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please," Shiro whispered, his voice raw and broken. "Save him." He had just lost his baby brother. If he lost his best friend, Shiro wouldn't be able to bear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will try," Coran said. "I will need some help. How steady are your hands?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro's were shaking; he clenched his fist to try and stop the tremors, but they just shook harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can help," Romelle said. "Shiro, will you trade me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro slid into the seat, slipping beneath Adam's head as Romelle slid out. He gingerly laid his bodyguard's head in his lap, unconsciously brushing away his fringe. He tuned out the sounds of Romelle and Coran beginning to sew Adam's body back together, and focused on his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam's face was awfully pale, almost gray, and spattered with blood. His eyes were closed, his breath coming in soft, shaky exhales. His skin was clammy and slicked with a thin sheen of sweat. As Coran began to stitch, Adam moaned, weak and breathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shh, it's okay, you're okay," Shiro whispered, voice choked with tears. He ran his fingers through Adam's hair as his tears dripped onto Adam's cheeks. He gently rubbed the base of Adam's furry ears, traced the dark markings stretching up his cheeks, so similar yet so different from Shiro's own. He had a cut on his forehead, leaking trickles of blood; Shiro gently wiped the blood away, pressing his sleeve to the small wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he prayed to every Ancestor, every Ancient that had come before, every god or goddess who might be listening--to let Adam live.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to protect his baby brother, lost in an angry mob a world away.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It was an hour of stitching, of staunching blood and doing everything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep Adam alive before they finally reached the safe house. The moment the carriage pulled up the drive, Coran was gathering Adam’s limp, bloodied form into his arms and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sprinting</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside; Shiro had never seen the kindly older Altean move so quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The safe house, compared to Shiro’s palace back in Altea and the Daibazaalee palace that they had just fled from, was…humble. Only two stories, like a country farmhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t care. He didn’t even process entering the building, nor the hurried walk to the infirmary where Coran was putting forth all of his skill to save Adam. The next thing Shiro knew, he was sitting outside the infirmary, hands folded and resting on his knees, staring at the opposite wall yet seeing nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akira should be here, in this safe place, running around and causing mischief with Romelle. He should be here, sitting beside Shiro, asking if Adam was going to be okay. Shiro was supposed to watch Akira grow up, be there when the boy was crowned king. He was supposed to be Akira’s brother, his role model, his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Akira was gone. Sand lost to the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Adam</span>
  </em>
  <span> should be here, helping Shiro formulate a strategy to find his brother. He’d promised Shiro that he would always be at his side, no matter what happened. When he became Shiro's personal bodyguard he had sworn to protect the prince with his life and stand by him in anything, weather any storm, fight any battle alongside Shiro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And where had that gotten Adam? Bleeding, <em>dying</em> in an infirmary bed, while Shiro was unable to do anything but sit outside and twiddle his thumbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How should he continue? What should Shiro do, now that his entire world had fallen around him? How could he possibly move on from this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced up as the door opened. Allura and Romelle entered, both girls looking exhausted and frightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both just children. Frightened children who had just experienced things that no child should ever see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro pushed his own turmoil, his own despair, down and away. He would think about it later, but for now he had a family to take care of. He had to be strong for them. Shiro stood and guided the two girls to sit. He curled his arms protectively around them both, pulling them close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle let out a shaky sob, burying her face in Shiro’s shoulder. Allura didn’t weep, but she curled into Shiro’s side and clutched the fabric of his shirt like he might disappear at any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they waited. For a sign, perhaps. Or a miracle.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Shiro had no idea how much time had passed before Coran was exiting the infirmary, closing the door behind him with a firm </span>
  <em>
    <span>click.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls had long since fallen asleep, but Shiro didn’t think he’d be able to rest even if he wanted to. He carefully eased Romelle from leaning on his shoulder to lying on the sofa, and slid out from beneath Allura, who had been curled up on his lap as if she were a little child again. When both girls were arranged neatly on the couch so they wouldn’t wake, Shiro strode toward Coran.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he-” Shiro’s voice was hoarse and raw from screaming, then hours of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is resting,” Coran murmured, so he wouldn’t wake the girls. The Altean looked exhausted; his hair was disheveled, his face lined, his marks dull. His shirt was smeared with blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro swallowed thickly. “He’s all right?” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coran’s face softened. “Yes,” he said, almost as softly. “He will be just fine. He’ll be unconscious for the next little while; we won’t be able to move to the next safe house until he wakes. You may go in to see him, if you wish, but be mindful not to wake him. He needs to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro nodded as Coran stepped out of his way. He exhaled shakily and entered the infirmary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam lay on a narrow bed, legs covered with a thin blanket. Thick bandages swathed his chest and upper body, and there were a few patches of gauze on his arms and face. His ears didn’t so much as twitch as Shiro sank into the chair beside the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He studied Adam’s face; he was still pale, but no longer that awful shade of gray he had been before. His chest rose and fell with steady, even breaths; Shiro found himself unconsciously breathing with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a habit Shiro had had since Adam had first become his bodyguard, years ago. For a long time, Shiro hadn’t been sure about having a bodyguard. Having someone shadow him, follow him wherever he went? He hadn’t wanted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, he hadn’t liked the young Galra who was supposed to fight and die for him. King Alfor had purposely chosen someone who was Shiro’s age, in the hopes that the young prince could have a friend, but Shiro hadn’t liked Adam at all. He was silent, and stoic. His expression was always the same, a cold, blank stare. His silence was </span>
  <em>
    <span>deafening.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro would spend long hours in the washroom just to escape the awkward silences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But after only a few months of having Adam shadow him, Shiro’s opinion began to change. On the rare occasion where his bodyguard was permitted to speak, he demonstrated a mind as sharp as his blades, and an even sharper wit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d played a prank once, on one of Shiro’s stuffy old tutors. Because he had to follow Shiro everywhere, Adam was forced to sit through the boring lectures as well. And one day, he had had enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro would always remember the look on the tutor’s face when Adam had switched around all the book covers; he’d opened the tome on diplomacy, and got a faceful of a cheesy romance novel that Adam had apparently spirited away from the library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the tutor’s confused and scandalized spluttering, Adam had met Shiro’s eyes and winked, the barest traces of a smirk ghosting across his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro had stood there, dumbfounded. He hadn’t known Adam had had a sense of humor, much less a mischievous streak. But as the tutor began to wail about the horrors of sparkling vampires, Shiro smiled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turned out, Adam was stoic and silent because he had been raised from birth to be a bodyguard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Silent and unseen,” Adam had explained one day as Shiro pulled a tunic over his undershirt before the day began. “That’s what I was trained to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more Shiro talked with his bodyguard, laughed with him, the more Adam opened up. He was witty and cheerful. He was sarcastic and mischievous, with the best laugh Shiro had ever heard. He quickly became known for pranking the staff or even Shiro or the other royal bodyguards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before too long, Adam was Shiro’s closest friend. They were practically inseparable, partially because Adam’s job was to literally stay at Shiro’s side at all times, and partially because they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back, Shiro wasn’t sure exactly when he’d started to fall for Adam. Perhaps it was the time he’d saved Shiro’s life during a failed assassination attempt. Shiro’s first. Adam had shouted for Shiro to get down as he drew his swords and engaged the enemy. He’d dispatched the would-be assassin in a matter of seconds, his blades gleaming in a whirlwind of silver. He’d glanced back at Shiro, gold eyes wide with concern and steely with resolve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps it had been that time he’d placed bouquets of flowers in all of the cook’s pots. The man had just been diagnosed with a life-long illness. Adam had roped Shiro into the task, slipping flowers into his pots and pans where he would find them. They’d hidden in the servant’s doorway to see the man find the first of the bouquets. Adam had watched the cook. And Shiro had watched Adam. The soft smile that had spread across the Galra’s face made Shiro’s lips curve upward, a warm feeling blooming in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps it had started long ago, when Shiro had first glanced across that tutoring room and exchanged a small smile with who would soon become one of the most important people in Shiro’s life. Perhaps it had all been growing and expanding from that moment, that harmless, meaningless prank that had started something else entirely. Something new, something as beautiful as it was painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beautiful in the glances, the smiles Adam sent Shiro’s way. The gleam of silver blades, the smirk as enemies were brought down. The laugh that sent Shiro’s heart racing, the gold eyes that seemed to dismantle him every time he looked, piece by smitten piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Painful in the bandages, the blood. The cut across Adam’s face from a wayward arrow. One inch farther to one side and he would be dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Painful in the fact that Adam, by duty and creed and sworn oath, would sacrifice his life to save Shiro’s in an instant. Painful in the fact that one day, perhaps, Shiro may awaken to find an empty room. That he might glance to the side by habit, seeking out a familiar tall shadow among the crowd, and find none.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the closest they had come to that, Shiro realized. Never before had Adam been so severely wounded, hovering as he was over the threshold between life and death. Never before had Shiro sat at his bedside, hoping and wishing beyond hopes and wishes that Adam would wake up, that Shiro could hear his laugh again and know that everything was going to be all right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro curled his fingers around Adam’s, wishing with all of his being that they could just squeeze back.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The soldiers walked together, one leading the way and the other cradling the young boy in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor little one,” Thace murmured, gazing down at the child. He didn’t look like he was much older than eight years old. His hair was inky black, his skin pale. He was at least part Galra; his ears were furry and pointed, and there were faint Galra markings stretching up his cheeks. His forearms and hands were tainted purple, dusted with the bare beginnings of fur. He was asleep, a bandage wrapped around his head. He’d been found unconscious on the ground by a nurse, who had patched him up and tried to find his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were nowhere to be found. Among the dead or missing, Thace thought but didn’t say. His heart went out to the little boy, who would awaken to find that he had lost everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re nearly there,” Ulaz said from up front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were taking the little boy to the orphanage; there was nothing else to be done, after all. He couldn’t stay in the hospital forever, and they couldn’t just throw him to the streets and hope that his parents would find him, if they were even still alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a decent place to live, Thace thought. Hot food, warm beds, enough clothing to go around. But it wouldn’t replace the home, the family that this boy had had just a day before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they stopped in front of the building, Thace looked down at the child in his arms one last time. He frowned and peered closer at the boy’s face. In the golden light from the windows, Thace could see a faint red </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>on his cheeks…he couldn’t quite see what it was, but when he looked closer, it was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding it to be a trick of the light, and a result of his own exhaustion, Thace stepped up to the door and knocked. He passed the boy off to the orphanage worker who answered the door, explaining that the boy was from the attack on the palace. The worker’s face sobered in understanding as she took the child from them, wrapping him in a warm blanket. The boy didn't stir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take care of him, please,” Thace said as he turned to leave. He’d only carried the boy in his arms for about half an hour, but he had grown attached to him in that short time, knowing the world of grief and pain that the boy would wake to in just a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will,” the woman promised as the soldiers walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thace walked away from the boy and the orphanage, Ulaz at his side. His heart was heavy with the knowledge that a young boy would wake to find everything he knew and loved…was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't have guessed how right he was.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bodyguard/royalty is probably my favorite romance dynamic. The INTIMACY. The PINING. The ANGST. I could go on about this dynamic alone for hours, my dudes</p><p>I have a headcanon that when Altean children are distressed/in danger, they subconsciously shapeshift as a fight-or-flight response to blend in with the people and species around them.</p><p>Comments and kudos appreciated!! &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3 Thanks for reading, luvs!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A New Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LITERAL SUNSHINE THAT IS HUNK GARRETT!!!!!!</p><p>From here on out, the POV will be switching between Keith's in the present day (10 years after the palace attack) and various members of the royal family and co. (Shiro, Allura, Adam, Coran, etc.) Keith's POV's will mostly be set in the present, narrating the main adventure around which this story is set. The other POVs will mostly be in the past, set in the years between Akira's disappearance and the present day. I will indicate when each POV is set to hopefully avoid any confusion.</p><p>The last two chapters were a sort of extended prologue, but the actual story begins here. I'll mostly be sticking with the main plot, which is Keith's journey, but I'll also be giving y'all some insights into Keith's family now and again (prepare for loads of angst there!)</p><p>I really did take 2 whole chapters to cover the first 10 minutes of the movie, didn't I</p><p>TW for this chapter: brief mild description of injury</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Six days after the attack on the palace</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coran stood over Adam, his brows furrowed, his usual jovial manner gone. “Do not bend,” the Altean instructed sternly. “Do not move abruptly. Do not leap or stretch. Do not lift anything that is too heavy. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About a week ago, Adam would have made a joke about carrying the weight of his sins. Now, after barely surviving a terrorist attack, being in a coma for nearly four days, and waking up to find that his surrogate little brother was gone, likely forever, Adam wasn’t quite in the mood for joking around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam nodded once, and Coran helped the young Galra rise shakily to his feet. His entire body was aching, particularly the stitched-up gash in his side where Sendak had scored a lucky swipe with his blade; there were no painkillers of any kind to be had in the safehouse, at least none that would do a Galra any good; there were only the dainty little Altean capsules that didn’t do jack shit for Galra. These safe houses </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the Altean royal family, after all, not their servants or bodyguards. Even though the bodyguards had a much higher chance of actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>needing</span>
  </em>
  <span> said painkillers… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam wasn’t salty about that </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not one bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coran helped him hobble to the doorway of the infirmary, Adam holding in a hiss of pain every time his wounds were jostled. Which was about every step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reached the door, Adam leaned gratefully against the threshold, gasping for breath. Sendak had broken a few of his ribs, making each breath feel like hot knives plunging into his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had probably been the most terrified Adam had ever been, that battle. He was a Galra bodyguard, trained in combat since he could walk. Adam was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>at what he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Sendak was, too. He was a war criminal, a terrorist. He was faster, stronger, </span>
  <em>
    <span>better.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And he’d nearly killed Adam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Adam was no stranger to death. As a bodyguard, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> his job to fight and likely die for the royal family. He’d seen several of his fellow bodyguards get injured or even perish in assassination attempts. This was just the first time death had come so close to claiming </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t regret it, though. He’d go toe-to-toe with Sendak all over again to protect Shiro and his siblings. The only thing stopping Adam from tearing across the countryside to search for Akira right now was the fact that every step was agonizing, and he was completely exhausted just from walking across the room. Not to mention that Daibazaal was a hostile country now that all alliances had been severed with the attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Coran packed up all the medical supplies he could carry for the long journey back to Altea, Adam mustered his strength to step out into the hallway. The moment he stepped away from the wall and the support it gave him, Adam’s knees buckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have dashed his head on the hard marble floor if Shiro hadn’t been there to catch him. As it was, Adam couldn’t hold back an instinctual hiss of pain as his injuries flared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Shiro murmured, practically holding Adam upright even though he was head-and-shoulders shorter than the Galra teen. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro looked utterly exhausted. There were dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, and his deep violet markings were dull. He was trying to be strong for the girls, but Adam knew Shiro better than anyone else. He could see the truth clear as day: losing Akira was tearing Shiro apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Adam said, straightening to take some of his own weight. Shiro kept Adam’s arm slung over his shoulders, the prince’s other arm wrapped around Adam’s waist to keep him steadied. The points of contact sent Adam’s skin tingling, his ears and tail twitching; he tried to force the sensation down, but as usual, his emotions ignored him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro shook his head, beginning to help Adam hobble down the hallway. “You’d be saying that even if you were skewered on a pike,” he said with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I kind of was,” Adam said, his tone light. “I mean, the huge-ass sword wasn’t a pike, but it’s the same principle…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro stopped short, his grip on Adam’s wrist tightening. He was trembling against him, just slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Too soon?” Adam asked softly, ears pricked forward attentively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Shiro spoke, his voice was weary. “Adam, you almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>died.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You were bleeding out in my arms, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t do anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s ears tipped downward as he pulled Shiro to continue walking. “I didn’t die, though. Therefore, I’m allowed to joke about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro tightened his hold on Adam but said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t right, this silence, this weary defeat. This wasn’t Shiro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam tilted his head toward the other as they slowly made their way to the door. “You held me in my arms, though? Wish I was conscious for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed, but the flush to his cheeks, the way his marks brightened a bit and the way his smile was a little more genuine conveyed his true feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam was just glad that Shiro was smiling again. It didn’t belong there, this heavy weight that had settled on all of them. The weight of trauma, of loss. That bleak, weary expression didn’t belong on Shiro’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d manage it, bear the weight, until Akira was found. Because they </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> find him. Adam didn’t let himself think about any alternative. Akira was alive, and they were going to find him and bring him home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They exited the safe house, Adam recoiling at the bright sunlight that assaulted his eyes. Being exiled to the infirmary for a week made his eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> sensitive to outside light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his eyes finally adjusted to the ungodly amounts of brightness, he could see the carriage that had apparently gotten them here, though of course he didn’t remember much of the actual journey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he recalled were flashes, panicked voices, sharp pricking in his skin that was nothing compared to the horrible agony pulsing through his entire body. He remembered feeling cold, and so very tired. Someone had held him on their lap, whispering to him and carding their fingers through his hair. They’d rubbed the base of his ears and stroked his cheeks, murmuring comforting words that Adam couldn’t make out. The hands had been so warm, so comforting, that Adam had drifted off and didn’t remember anything else until he woke up in the infirmary days later, Romelle and Allura clutching his hands, and Shiro asleep at his bedside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking himself from his thoughts, Adam hobbled down the steps, wincing as his injuries protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they made it to the carriage, Adam was gasping, his entire side on fire. Shiro steadied Adam, letting the Galra lean back against him to rest before climbing inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure you’re okay to make the journey?” Shiro’s concerned voice cut through the white buzz of pain in Adam’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam waved a hand, forcing a smile. “Yeah, yeah, just…just gotta…rest for a bit…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had a long way to go before they reached the palace in Altea, where they would be safe. It was a three month journey on foot, but in the carriage it would be a little less than three weeks. There were a number of secret safe houses positioned on the way, much like the one they were in now, where they could rest and gather supplies for the next leg of the journey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even then, that was three weeks of traveling alone in what was now enemy territory. Adam didn’t want to keep the others in this kingdom any longer than they had to be; besides, his injury wouldn’t get much better without the supplies and staff they would have at the palace. Though Coran was doing his best, and Adam was very grateful for that, it would only get worse from here until he could receive proper treatment with a full medical staff and supplies, not the little kit and whatever else Coran had managed to grab before the world came crashing down around them. If Adam was to travel, he’d rather it be now, when the pain was bearable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t look convinced at Adam’s words, but he didn’t press the issue; he knew as much as Adam did that they couldn’t stay for very much longer before someone picked up their trail and found them. They had to keep moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took some maneuvering from Adam and Shiro, along with muttered curses among pained hisses before Adam was inside the carriage, leaning against the far wall and trying not to pass out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the stitches had held, but it felt like Sendak’s blade was there all over again, slicing deep into his flesh and </span>
  <em>
    <span>twisting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And Adam was back there again, in that room full of smoke and flame and blood and screams, gazing into Sendak’s gleaming eyes as agony like he’d never known tore through his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Die like the lowly dog that you are,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sendak had snarled, twisting the blade. It had taken everything in Adam to stay conscious, but everything whited out in the horrible agony. He’d screamed, probably, though he didn’t remember exactly. Everything was fuzzy at that point. He vaguely remembered a flash of orange hair, someone plowing into Sendak before he could finish Adam off, sending him flying into the mass of insurgents. Then there were hands on him, a pair of teal eyes, urgent and resolved. Coran had somehow found him, perhaps hearing Adam’s scream, and carried him to the carriage before it could pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone was saying Adam’s name, their voice laced with panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam peeled his eyes open, wincing as his head spun. A pair of gray eyes bore into his, a pair of hands gripping his biceps to keep him upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro exhaled in relief when Adam met his eyes. “Scared me for a second there,” he murmured, sitting back. “I thought you’d passed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Adam didn’t feel up to telling Shiro about his and Sendak’s battle. Not now, when they were still shaken and reeling from everything that had happened. “I was trying </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to pass out, actually.” He’d tell him later. After they found Akira and repaired their little family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Shiro settled next to Adam, the Galra caught sight of dried blood crusted on the other seat. Shiro's words echoed through his mind: <em>you nearly died. You were bleeding in my arms.</em> With a shiver, Adam turned away; he'd rather not think about how close it had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the girls and Coran clambered inside, their driver sitting up front, the carriage began to move and Adam watched the countryside roll by, anything to distract himself from the pain that was worming through his body. He was completely exhausted, despite his four-day nap, but Adam didn’t dare fall asleep. He was the only guard with the royal family. If anything happened, he had to be combat-ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro, of course, seemed to read his mind, nudging his shoulder. “You need to rest,” he murmured, his breath brushing over Adam’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam, ignoring the shivers that ran down his spine, shook his head. “I’m doing my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed wearily. “You’re wounded, and exhausted. You need rest.” He squeezed Adam’s wrist. “I’ll wake you up if anything happens, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam was tempted to protest, but he knew Shiro was right; the exhaustion was set deep in his bones, his injuries sapping every spare bit of energy he possessed. Adam nodded and settled against the wall of the carriage. Despite the uncomfortable position, he was dragged into sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the hands gently shifting him to lay across someone’s lap? The fingers running through his hair, soothing him into slumber?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It may have been a dream, perhaps.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The city of Arus was, to many, a blight. Loud and smelly, choked with smoke from chimneys and exhaust from the trains that came every day, crowded with grouchy people who’d pick your pocket as soon as they looked at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance McClain was one of the only people who </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> mind the city so much. As far as awful cities went, Arus </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t that awful. Sure, the locals were a little weird--they had an odd habit of starting sacrificial fires every time something bad happened--and the pickpockets were a definite problem for newcomers, but the thieves of the city didn’t bother Lance much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After all, he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>trained</span>
  </em>
  <span> most of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, like most days, the city was abuzz with gossip. The women talking amongst themselves as they washed clothing at the wells, merchants whispering over their tables of wares, barbers chattering as they clipped hair. There was a rumor that a member of the royal family, the youngest prince who had been missing for nearly a decade since the terrorist attack on the palace, was alive and in hiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that alone was basis enough for the gossip to go mad. But the real attention-grabber was the fact that the Altean throne had put out a reward to anyone who could bring him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They must be getting desperate,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance thought as he pushed through the crowd. It’d been ten years; surely the royal family was grasping at straws now, for anything that might indicate their lost family member was alive. That didn’t matter, not to Lance; after all, desperate people always paid more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed through the doors of the Lion’s Den, his main base of operations. It wasn’t much; three writing desks pushed up against the walls to take advantage of the natural light from the windows, a bunk bed and a cot pushed up against the other side of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk’s bed was, as usual, immaculate, neatly tucked and folded. Lance’s was a mess, blankets thrown everywhere and partially hanging off the bed. It was why Hunk took the top; so he didn’t have to deal with Lance’s bedding falling off and making him trip in the mornings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge was sitting on her cot, wrapped up in a nest of blankets. Her copper hair was wild, sticking up in all directions as per usual. Hunk was seated at his desk, sketching over some schematics that he and Pidge had no doubt cobbled together. As Lance burst in, copper and honey gazes turned to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He plopped on his desk, beaming widely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s got you this cheerful?” Hunk asked, turning toward his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking unnatural, that’s what it is,” Pidge grumbled. “It’s too early to be cheerful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance frowned at Pidge. “It’s almost noon,” he pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge shrugged, her voice muffled from the blanket nest. “I said what I said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance chuckled. “I do have a reason, though,” he said. “I’ve got an idea, for how we’ll finally get out of this shithole of a city and make it big.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk and Pidge straightened at that; the three had been together for years, all trying to make their way to Altea, away from the civil unrest that had sprung up ever since the attack on the palace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance stood and strode over to Hunk’s desk, slamming down a clipping from a newspaper he had snagged from an older man’s cloak pocket. “Read that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge stood and stumbled over to see, still wrapped up in blankets. They read the article together in silence. When they were finished, Pidge just stared at Lance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lost prince? Really?” She deadpanned. “It’s a myth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think he’s out there?” Hunk asked, his brow furrowing. “I mean…it’s been a really long time since then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not long enough,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance thought but didn’t say, the starburst-shaped scar on his back tingling. “Even if he isn’t out there,” he said, pushing the thoughts and memories away, “the rulers of Altea are still giving out money for whoever brings him in. We don’t even have to find the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira, just a really good actor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk frowned even deeper. “I don’t like taking advantage of them like that,” he admitted. “It seems a little cruel, don’t you think? I mean, they must be so desperate to get their family back…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Lance beamed. “It’s perfect!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re paying so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pidge gasped, staring at the written price. “Hunk, if we split this three ways, you could open your own bakery with just </span>
  <em>
    <span>half</span>
  </em>
  <span> your share!” Her eyes gleamed. “I could become a top scientist! This could solve </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of our problems!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could,” Lance agreed, smiling at Pidge’s enthusiasm. Now all he had to do was convince Hunk. “Besides, I don’t think this really counts as a swindle. The royal family kind of asked for a bunch of lowlifes like us to come swaggering in looking for money. I doubt we’d be the first to attempt something like this, and I know we won’t be the last. Let's take this opportunity before someone else does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then…what makes you think we could pull it off? If there’ll be other people trying to get the money, we’ll need to get someone who’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> good at acting. Enough to convince the royals. I don’t know if there’s anyone like that…” Hunk was teetering on the edge, Lance could see it. He just needed a tiny bit more convincing, and then they could get everything they ever wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hunk, my man…” Lance laid both hands on Hunk’s shoulders, peering into his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll</span>
  </em>
  <span> be teaching him. He’ll pass any test with flying colors!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Lance is the best at swindling!” Pidge said, elbowing Hunk gently. “He’s got this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk hesitated. “Do you have a place where we can audition for someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already taken care of!” Lance said cheerfully. “We’ll start looking for someone tomorrow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge gave Lance a high-five, hooting with excitement. “Altea, here we come!”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The door slammed behind the two figures as one led the other from the tall, crooked building. Inside, children’s faces were pressed up to the windows, watching as one of their own left for good. Life in an orphanage was boring and repetitive, and any change in the routine was met with eager excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that any of them actually cared that Keith was finally old enough to leave. He was an outsider, a lone wolf. He was part-Galra, which wasn’t uncommon in these parts, but his ears were smaller and pointier, and his Galra markings were pale, just barely more than outlines. His skin was only purple on his back and shoulders and forearms, and his eyes were violet, not yellow. He was, as the staff and children said, the strangest looking part-Galra they’d ever seen. To make matters worse, he didn't work well with others, always staying by himself and snapping at people who came close. After a while, they other children had learned to leave the weird quiet kid alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith looked ahead, tolerating the endless chatter of the orphanage worker as she informed him of his new life as a dock worker. Forever, probably, since Keith didn’t have any money or known relations to get him an apprenticeship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, a hand lowering to his waist to brush against the cool metal of the knife. He’d had it for as long as he could remember, and though the orphanage staff had been reluctant to let an eight-year-old child run around with a blade of his own, they’d let him keep it. The only thing he had from his past, the only clue to who he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pad of his thumb ran over the engraved words, the ones he’d memorized years ago. On one side, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Patience Yields Focus.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wasn’t sure what those words had meant to him; he could vaguely, on the very edges of his memory, recall someone repeating those words to him often, but he couldn’t remember what they looked like or even what they </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounded</span>
  </em>
  <span> like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And on the other side, the inscription that really mattered: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Together in Altea.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The only clue Keith had for finding his family. The only thing that kept him going through the ten long years of growing up in an orphanage, the only reason why he did </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t remember anything before waking up at the orphanage with nothing but a knife; he hadn’t even remembered his name, though the staff had taken to calling him Keith. His entire past was obscured by a thick, murky fog, and the harder Keith tried to peer through to see what was on the other side, the more hidden it became.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had dreams, sometimes. Snatches of voices, brief images and sensations that felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet so foreign that Keith didn’t know what was actually glimpses of memory and what was merely the stuff of dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of hands lifting him and swinging him through the air. A laughing voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could never drop you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A pair of kind gray eyes, a flash of pale hair. A warm hug, a delighted voice in his ear. Frazzled hands combing through his hair to make it lay flat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>...worked so hard on this…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>frustrated</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. Keith just wished he could remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> about his past. Maybe then he could finally find a place to belong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn left when you come to the fork in the road,” the staff member was saying to Keith as he was drawn from his thoughts. “From there, it’s easy enough to find the docks. Go on, now, don’t be late!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled the gate open, Keith wincing at the screeching sound of rusty metal. He hesitated, then began to walk, pulling his tattered red cloak tighter around him and burrowing his face into the black scarf to ward off the chill of the winter morning. The forest was silent, the light snow swallowing all sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under different circumstances, Keith might have enjoyed the peace of walking alone on a solitary road, surrounded on all sides by animals and trees. But his mind was churning, his thoughts restless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here he was, on his way to be a nameless dock worker for the rest of his life. A nobody with an empty past. No way to know if he had once belonged to a home, a family. No way to know if his life could possibly have turned out differently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he really want that? Keith most definitely did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But what </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>he want?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife seemed to grow heavier at Keith’s side, those words burning into his skin, into his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Together in Altea.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted…to find out where he came from. Even if his parents were peasants, his home a mud hut, Keith wanted to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knew it, Keith found himself standing at the split in the road. The sign was tall and crooked, wood cracked and weathered with age. To the left, Naxzela. The city where Keith would toil under the unforgiving sun at the docks until the rest of his days. Keith the orphan, forever. And to the right… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arus. A large city, where he could easily find passage to Altea. To whoever had given him the knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, normally Keith didn’t have trouble making decisions. He actually rarely </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> decisions; often, he’d throw himself into situations without even thinking, no matter what consequences might follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like that time James had been stealing Anya’s sliced apples from breakfast. Twelve-year-old Keith had vaulted over the table and squarely slammed his fist into James’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been grounded for weeks after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, however, something gave Keith pause. This wasn’t something he could just rush into without thinking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Patience yields focus.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Even if he didn’t remember who gave those words to him, he could still listen to that person’s advice. He stopped right where the two paths diverged and thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Down the path to the left, to the life and destination he knew…or to the right, where everything--</span>
  <em>
    <span>everything--</span>
  </em>
  <span>was unknown? Where he might, against all odds, find where he came from?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Risk and reward. Action and consequence. Right and wrong. The decisions swirled through Keith’s mind, making him dizzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Growing impatient with himself, he threw his head back and shouted. “All right! Fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice echoed across the valley, through the silent stands of trees, startling a flock of birds from their roosts. They took to the sky in a flurry of wings and feathers, scattering to the four winds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith crossed his arms, the end of his black scarf fluttering in the wind. He would wait for a sign. If any Ancient or Ancestor was watching, they might guide him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith wasn’t normally one to believe in them, since he’d apparently been abandoned by any higher power that might have been, but now he was desperate to know what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something brushed up against his leg, and Keith yelped, jumping away, hand instinctively going to his knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of all things, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dog</span>
  </em>
  <span> stood there, staring at Keith. He was very dark black, with white markings on his face, and on his chest in the shape of a V. He came to about Keith’s knee, his fluffy ears tilted toward Keith, his head cocked curiously. His gold eyes shone with intelligence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Keith could react, the dog pounced, taking hold of the fluttering end of his scarf with his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-Hey!” Keith was dragged along behind as the dog began to march down the path to the right, the scarf clamped firmly in his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was dragged for several moments before he was able to get the scarf off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as his weight disappeared, the dog looked back, ears tilted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith glanced around, seeing that he’d been dragged onto the path heading to the right. He sighed; it wasn’t a conventional sign by any means, but he would take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arus it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog yapped once, as if impatient. Keith reached into his pocket to see if he had anything to give him. The small piece of jerky he withdrew had the dog’s tail wagging, his nose twitching curiously at the scent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith tossed the jerky to the dog and started walking, scooping up his scarf as he went by. The dog caught the jerky midair and trotted alongside Keith as he chewed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’re coming with me, then,” Keith said, glancing down at the dog. He looked back, tongue lolling from his mouth. Keith shrugged. “All right then. You’ve got a name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog yipped again, but it was more likely out of excitement than an actual reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith studied the markings on his face and chest; they looked sort of like the pictures of nebulas Keith had seen of outer space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kosmo, then.” He was fully aware that he was speaking to a dog, but he’d never gotten along with humans, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else to talk to on this solitary road. “I hope you like crowds. Arus is supposed to be huge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog yapped in agreement, and Keith walked forward into an unknown future.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>BONDING MOMENT 2.0: ADASHI EDITION</p><p>I think it's rather fitting that the place where this adventure starts is the same place where their adventures as Team Voltron started in the show, at Arus. I'm so sentimental<br/>To be clear, I have no idea if jerky is actually healthy for dogs. Please don't feed them that unless you know for sure!</p><p>Me, upon realizing that instead of Keith losing Shiro (for Kerberos), this fic revolves around Shiro losing Keith: oh ho ho, how the turns have tabled</p><p>On another note, am I the only one who had nightmares of Rasputin as a kid? He was creepy enough WITHOUT the eyeballs popping out of his skull!</p><p>Thank you all for reading! I would love to see a comment telling me what you think of this au so far!! &lt;3&lt;3 they are my fUEL</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I Can't Believe This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith makes his way to Arus to book passage to Altea, only to find that there's no way for him to purchase a ticket. He's pushed in the direction of a place called The Lion's Den, where he can find someone who can help...</p><p>Meanwhile, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are losing faith in their plot. None of the prospective fake Akiras are making the cut-and most are downright terrible choices. When a lost orphan and his dog arrive looking for aid, the three are just about to turn him away when Pidge sees an opportunity...</p><p>And ten years in the past, Shiro, Adam, Allura, Coran, and Romelle are traveling through enemy territory with a gang of terrorists hounding their every move. Still grieving the loss of Akira and worrying about Adam, who's growing more and more distant with every passing day, Shiro must find a way to get his family to safety-and stay sane in the process.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am back again with the fourth chapter in as many consecutive days. Ya know what they say, "a chapter a day keeps the depression away!"</p><p>I've got some plot progression, some Garrison Trio interactions (and motivations!! woohoo!) and a good dose of adashi angst for y'alls &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You can’t be serious!” Keith gripped his sleeves to keep himself from causing the ticket collector bodily harm. “There’s got to be a way I can find a ticket!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No can do, boy,” the ticket collector said around a fat cigar. “No identification, no ticket. No ticket, no ride.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith glowered at the man. He’d arrived in Arus to find it was a dank, smoke-choked city crammed with criminals and lowlifes. A decade ago it had been the capital of Daibazaal, home to the royal family, but no longer. He’d had to keep a hand on his knife hilt after some urchin tried to steal it right off his belt. And now this man was sitting there, smirking around the smoking end of the cigar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ain’t gonna pay up, then move along,” the man said, waving a dismissive hand. “I got no time for street urchins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith huffed, grudgingly stepping to the side. Kosmo followed, leaning his furry bulk against Keith’s legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Psst. You, with the dog.” The voice came from nowhere, a quiet hiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith’s head snapped up and he looked behind him. A young woman stood there, her head wrapped up in a scarf. She whispered again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know a guy who can help with your little problem. He’s the best in the field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned and warily shifted closer. “What field?” He wasn’t an idiot; he knew talking with a stranger in an alleyway was an awful idea, but if someone could help him get to Altea, Keith was willing to do something stupid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl slipped a hand into her pocket and withdrew an ID card. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“This</span>
  </em>
  <span> field.” It looked official, with a photograph of the girl and the printed name</span>
  <em>
    <span> Nyma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He…made that?” Keith had seen his fair share of ID cards; after the overthrow of the Altean nobles ten years back, the new regime had enforced the carry and use of ID cards. They kept tabs on </span>
  <em>
    <span>everybody,</span>
  </em>
  <span> where they went and why and when.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” the girl, Nyma, confirmed, stashing the card back in her pocket. “He can get you tickets, ID, papers of recommendation. Blue’s your guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where can I find him?” Keith would probably have to pay the guy; it was a good thing the orphanage staff had given him a starting allowance for an apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyma leaned in close. “The bigwigs don’t like what this guy does, so he has to stay out of sight. I can't tell you where his main hideout is, but you can find him today at the old Olkarion theater. He won’t be there all day, so you’ll need to hustle, but go there and ask for Blue. He can help you.” She paused, glancing around. “You didn’t hear it from me, okay? Just a tip you overheard from a passing group.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Nyma melted into the shadows and disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith stood there, brows furrowed. He glanced down at Kosmo; the dog looked up and whined, ears back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith sighed. “Yeah, I’m tired, too. Let’s go find this guy and see if he can help us.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> not worth it,” Pidge grumbled under her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk frowned. “They’re trying their best,” he pointed out. “It’s not their fault we all have such high standards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance sighed, rubbing his temples and wearily waving the current auditioner from the stage. He left with a manly pout, crossing his enormous arms over his barrel chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Honestly, how dense can you get?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira would be about eighteen by now, Lance’s age. Half of these people were </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span> that, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next came on, a thin, gangly dude with the muscular physique of a scarecrow. He stuttered through the given lines, a sheen of sweat visible on his brow. He’d only gotten a few words in before Lance was waving on the next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d been there for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and seen probably close to about two hundred people. None of them had even come close. They couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> get a good actor; if that was what Lance was looking for, several of the men auditioning would have made it. The thing was, their Akira had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the real thing. There were quite a few Galra hybrids among the prospective Akiras, but none of them were close enough to pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s the problem with having such a unique look,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance complained internally. He had a pair of fake ears that could pull off the look from a distance, but it would never fool any self-respecting Galra or royal family member up close. They had to have someone who at least had the same structure as Akira did. Lance could handle the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next audition wasn’t much better. A slim, elegant figure stood in the center of the stage, a long cigar between his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My long-lost brother!” The man announced in a husky, sultry voice. “I am Akira!” He threw off his fur cloak, revealing a fine suit beneath as he struck a…questionable pose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk sank down in his chair, covering his face with his hands, and the long desk shook from Pidge’s face impacting the wooden surface. Lance suppressed a shudder and waved him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next?” He glanced at Hunk, who was rifling through the stack of papers. The names of each person auditioning and their background, down to their specific skillsets and personal history and favorite color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other shook his head, snapping the ledger closed with a snap. “That was all of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge groaned, lifting her head from the desk. “Does anyone else find themselves in need of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span> coffee?” She had a red blotch on her forehead from faceplanting the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I might take you up on that.” He had a headache, and was grouchy and tired from sitting in the theater all day. Apparently for nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three rose from their chairs, gathering their papers. Lance suppressed the urge to kick something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dammit! The authorities grew more and more strict by the day; they were running out of time to get out of this godforsaken country.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because if they were caught, they would disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ancients</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the Altean ability to camouflage. Otherwise the three would have been captured and killed years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the Altean royal family fled from the country in the aftermath of the coup, there was an unspoken, nation-wide manhunt for any and all Alteans in Daibazaal. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk had all been caught in the crossfires, separated from their fleeing families (if they had any) and forced to camouflage themselves to go into hiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of them had seen the other’s Altean markings in years. Lance could barely remember what they looked like without their disguises. There were quite a few humans living in Daibazaal, so the three had hidden their markings and pointed ears in favor of rounded ears and smooth, unblemished cheeks. And if Lance had purposefully hidden his freckles as well? Well, that was his business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The point being, they were on a time frame to get out of the country to safety. The noose was tightening, and Lance couldn’t find a way to get his friends away from the trapdoor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, dutifully gathering up the stack of papers Pidge offered him, then made his way to the door with his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It opened before they reached it, a black blur shooting through the doorway with an excited bark. Pidge yelped as the dog ran circles around her, jumping up and down and yapping excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kosmo! Down!” A harried voice called, followed by who must have been the dog’s owner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. The guy was drop-dead gorgeous; waves of raven-black hair tumbling around his shoulders, piercing violet eyes that seemed to pin Lance in place as his gaze swept over the trio. He was Galra, from his furry ears and faint markings, but he was too short and fur-less to be full-blooded. He looked like he could be part-human, but Lance couldn’t be sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog, after thoroughly sniffing the group and running in circles around them all, ran back to the guy’s side. He looked at them all apologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem!” Hunk, ever the diplomat, stepped forward and offered a hand. “What brings you here? Not many people come to this old theater nowadays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other guy warily shook his hand. “I’m looking for someone,” he said cautiously. “A person named Blue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance groaned internally. Damn it. He’d stopped doing forgeries six months ago; it got the authorities too close behind for comfort. He’d dropped that particular line of work to get them off his back, but Nyma and some of the other people he’d helped before didn’t seem to get that; they recommended his services to every poor, destitute orphan who entered the city looking for a way out of Daibazaal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other person’s eyes were darting between the three. “Is…is he here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, kid, but I’ve stopped doing forgeries. You’ll have to find someone else.” Lance watched as the raven-haired boy’s eyes snapped to him, looking desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. I need to get to Altea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You and me both,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance thought. He shrugged. “I don’t do forgeries anymore. I can’t help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy’s brows lowered, and for a moment Lance thought he might start throwing punches. Not a good idea, facing off with three Alteans on the streets of a city full of criminals in a country that was hell-bent on seeing them all dead; Lance had been in a tussle or two of his own, Hunk was heavy on his feet but made up for it in raw power, and Pidge could easily take someone down with just pure, concentrated rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the frustration seemed to melt from him with a sigh, and he turned to leave. "Come on, Kos."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Pidge ran forward, halting in front of the Galra hybrid as he turned in surprise. She leaned forward, studying him. Lance recognized that look in her eye; Pidge had some gears turning in that brilliant mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” There was a gleam in her honey eyes; she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> planning something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy blinked. “Uh, Keith.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge brought a hand up to her chin. “And…how’s your acting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance realized what she was doing. “Nope! Not doing that!” He stepped between the two. “I’ve already seen more auditions than I ever want to again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge pulled on Lance’s shirt, yanking him down to eye level. “Look at him! He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She hissed, neither of them noticing the way Keith’s ears twitched, picking up every word of their conversation. “He looks about the right age, and he’s the closest we’ve seen in terms of his structure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance hesitated, sneaking a glance at Keith out of the corner of his eye. Pidge was right; he had the same traits Akira had had. Ears, faint markings. The only things missing was the hair color and the Altean markings, but such things could easily be fixed with makeup and dye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk was leaning in on their little discussion, nodding his head. “Besides,” the large Altean murmured, “we can’t just refuse to help him. He’s probably trying to escape this country, just like us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another fair point. Hunk and his immovable moral compass…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right,” Lance said, straightening and turning to Keith. “I’ve got a deal for you. We,” at this, he looped his arms over Hunk’s shoulder and rested his elbow on Pidge’s head, much to her annoyance, “are also looking for passage to Altea. If you help us, we’ll help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned. “What am I helping you with? If it’s some kind of crime, I’m not interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Finally,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hunk muttered under his breath. Lance ignored him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a crime,” he said. “It’s a harmless job that we can’t pull off on our own.” He stepped forward. “Follow us to our main hideout, and we’ll explain.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Keith wasn’t sure how to feel about these people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue, whose name was apparently Lance, was loud and boisterous and just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was like he had a miniature sun trapped beneath his skin, pulsing with so much energy and life he could barely contain it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hunk was all right, he supposed. He seemed kind and gentle, which immediately made Keith a little on edge; the nice ones could be the most devious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge was a little unnerving. She had that </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling </span>
  </em>
  <span>around her, that aura of pure brilliance that only extremely smart people exhibited. Keith got the feeling that she could think circles around everyone else in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were taking him to their “main hideout” first. Hunk had said it was the one they used the most, but quite a few people knew where it was and they wanted to be somewhere discreet. Pidge and Lance were going to grab some things from their main place, then they would all make their way to the secret place to discuss business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith was wary, but he was also desperate for their help. Besides, he had his knife and Kosmo. He could hold his own if it came to a tussle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their main hideout, an old apartment dubbed The Lion’s Den, looked like any other apartment building Keith had seen on their way there. Pidge and Lance disappeared inside, and a few minutes later they emerged carrying satchels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there, it was a long period of walking before they reached their destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith was…underwhelmed. It had once been a huge, grand building, like a mansion, but it had seen some hard days. The center of the building was gone, leaving a few twisted pillars of scorched stone and a crater filled with ash. Only the outermost wings were standing, the windows and doors boarded up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to Lance, a deadpan expression on his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your ‘super-secret hideout?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance shrugged. “Hey, the enforcers don’t come here, and most people don’t know the old palace is even still standing. I take what I can get when I get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Old palace.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So this was the site of those terrorist attacks ten years ago. Where the royal family had lived, once upon a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The side door had a loose board which Hunk pulled away so they could squeeze through. Pidge didn’t need to hunch or duck her head, but the three boys had to hunker down to fit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the old palace was…eerie. A thick layer of dust covered every surface; cobwebs hung from the ceiling in gauzy sheets. It was so utterly silent in there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t be quiet. There should have been noise, a bustle of activity. Servants rushing around, a young girl chasing her little brother, both children laughing gleefully… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith shook his head. Where had that come from? He’d been casting his gaze around the room, and suddenly his mind had dredged up…whatever that had been. Regarding it to be a scene from a book he must have read once, Keith continued to follow the others through the dark, gloomy room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went through a doorway, and Keith paused. This room looked like it belonged in a different building. There was no dust or cobwebs, and as Pidge went about lighting lanterns, the room was lit with a cheery, homey golden glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few sleeping bags were strewn about, as well as a small desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance flopped down on one of the sleeping bags. “Now, then. Let’s talk business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith hesitated before lowering himself to one of the sleeping bags. Kosmo flopped next to him, huffing out a deep sigh as he wriggled about, making himself comfortable with his head in Keith’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could Keith do this? Trust three total strangers to get him to Altea?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flat of the knife dug into his thigh, and Keith unconsciously brushed the pad of his finger over the engraved words. He had no other way to get to Altea, no other leads. No money, no ticket, no identification of any kind. If he wanted to find his past, Keith would have to go along with their plot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance, Pidge and Hunk laid out the basics of their plan to him, but Keith already knew he was going to accept.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Three weeks after the attack on the palace</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One week. Then they would be safely behind the Altean border. Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one week.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it didn’t look like they’d make it past the next </span>
  <em>
    <span>hour.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro shoved Romelle beneath the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl didn’t argue. Three Galra stormed into the room, weapons drawn. The first caught sight of Shiro, standing next to the window. He grinned sharply, licking his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro drew his sword, narrowing his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had been being followed for the last three days. None of them had dared stop, continuing onward without pausing for longer than a few minutes at a time. Shiro had thought they’d lost their pursuers; apparently they hadn't been so lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ducked beneath the first swing of the sword, the metal hissing above his head, the rush of air moving strands of his hair. He disarmed the first Galra with a few quick strikes from the flat of his blade, then kicked him away. The other two came, and Shiro ducked back to avoid their wildly swinging blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted as one met his next swing, pushing back against him. The Galra’s yellow eyes were inches from his face, his fangs bared in a menacing grin. “Missing little brother, are we?” His voice was harsh, dripping with contempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a yell, Shiro dropped and swung the other’s legs out from beneath him. He hit the ground hard with a yelp of pain, and his friend was leaping forward, backing Shiro toward the open window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro grunted, struggling to hold his ground, but the Galra was relentless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both that Shiro had previously defeated staggered to their feet, shrugging off their injuries. Once caught sight of Romelle beneath the table and grinned, darting forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t even have time to cry out in warning; his opponent pushed him back again, and Shiro flung out a hand behind him to keep from hitting the ground. His hand hit the windowsill, and the cool rush of air chilled his skin. His legs were backed up against the sill, and Shiro was nearly bent backward, his head out in open air, the ground far below. The Galra grinned, swinging his sword down in a deadly arc. Shiro caught it with his own blade, struggling to keep the sword from slicing into the flesh of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle swung her own sword with a cry, taking her attacker by surprise; he hadn’t expected her to be armed. He lashed out with his own blade in retaliation, and Romelle responded in kind, eyes narrowed in anger and determination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro was tipped farther out the window. His arms shook with exertion, struggling to push both blades away from his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Down below, he could hear the sounds of his other companions battling their attackers, though he couldn’t see them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro hoped they would be all right without him. Allura and Romelle were trained in combat, as most Alteans were, but they didn’t have as much experience as Adam or Shiro. Coran had once been an excellent warrior, but an old injury confined him to the infirmary for good, though he still kept his old skills polished. Shiro knew that they could get to Altea safely. He had faith in them. They would make it, even if he wouldn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Galra, as if sensing Shiro’s imminent defeat, sneered, pushing down harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro couldn’t hold for much longer; his arms were burning, the blades inching closer to his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was a cry from inside. Shiro’s gaze snapped to Romelle, who had been kicked in the side. The other two Galra stood over her, grins wicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was a dark blur whipping through the air, and one of them crumpled. The hilt of a knife protruded from his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The remaining Galra whipped around, eyes flashing with fury at the death of his comrade, and the next knife slammed into his chest, right over his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam darted forward, his long sword held close to the ground as he closed in on the Galra holding Shiro down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a whistle of metal slicing through air, then hot blood spattering across Shiro’s face, and then the Galra’s weight was gone as he was shoved through the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam looked like he had been battling hard. His sweaty hair was sticking to his face, and he had a cut across his face; blood ran down his cheek like tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle didn’t look much better, out of breath and shaken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s gaze fixed on Shiro as the latter straightened and sheathed his sword. “Are you all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” Shiro said, wiping the Galra’s blood from his face. If Adam had arrived just a little later, he wouldn’t have been, but Shiro didn’t want to think about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle nodded when Adam’s gaze turned to her. “I’m not hurt,” she confirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> all right?” At Shiro’s question, Adam pushed off from the wall that he’d been leaning on slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro knew that wasn’t true; Adam had been in an almost constant state of pain from his injuries for the last two weeks since he woke up. They wouldn’t be able to completely heal his wounds until they reached Altea. Now, after fighting and moving so quickly, the pain had to be excruciating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this, Adam walked from the room and down the stairs, his swords dripping with blood. He walked with a limp, but Shiro knew he couldn’t say or do anything to get Adam to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For two weeks, Adam had been even more distant now than he’d been since they first met, when he first became Shiro’s bodyguard. Shiro knew tensions were high, and everyone was grieving Akira and everything else they’d lost, but it still </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time Shiro tried to talk to him, tried to get him to open back up, Adam would turn away, and it was like a curtain had fallen over his face, his usually animated ears and tail falling still. Suddenly Shiro couldn’t get a read on him, when for so many years he’d been able to read Adam’s expressions and body language like a book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just wanted his best friend back. Now more than ever, when he’d lost everything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the bottom of the flight, and Shiro nearly collapsed with relief when he saw Allura and Coran, winded and out of breath, but safe. Alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it is best if we move on,” Coran said. “There is another safe house not far from here, but it is unwise to remain. Reinforcements may be on their way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion creep over him. They’d been going without stopping for days, taking turns driving and sleeping in the carriage after the driver had perished in one of the first ambushes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro hadn’t even known the man’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone needed to rest, but Coran was right; they couldn’t stay here. They climbed back into the carriage, Coran sitting up front to take his turn driving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam went with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro knew that Adam would say he was “doing his job” if he asked why, but he suspected that Adam was avoiding him. They’d only been in the carriage together a few times over the last two weeks, and every time, Adam had curled up-on the opposite side of the carriage-and gone to sleep. Or pretended to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were all going through a lot. Shiro knew that. But he knew how Adam operated; the bodyguard would crush his own emotions and traumas, compact it down deep inside in favor of taking care of the royal family. It was the way he’d been trained-put the royals’ lives and priorities above his own-and it was also how Adam naturally was. Shiro knew he had to be <em>aching</em> inside as much as Shiro was, and he also knew that Adam wouldn’t acknowledge it or look for help unless Shiro smacked him in the face with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something horribly painful about seeing someone he cared about so deeply throw aside his feelings as if they didn’t bother him. As if he didn’t matter. As if Shiro’s life was infinitely more valuable than Adam’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the worst thing about this whole arrangement. Adam had been trained his whole life to be a bodyguard, someone whose life was expendable, to protect someone who wasn’t. Shiro had been trying in all the time they knew each other to break down those walls. It was true that, in terms of political importance, Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> more valuable than Adam. But that didn’t mean the latter had to ignore his own struggles to make sure Shiro had everything he needed. He hated being coddled and protected, and he hated seeing Adam self-destruct like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caught up in all his musings, Shiro hadn’t noticed they’d reached the next safe house until they were pulling up the drive. This one had a single story, low and flat and nondescript. To the passing traveler, it would look like a hunting cabin belonging to a large family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They unpacked and set up camp inside. They had managed to find sleeping bags at the second safe house, packed away in a closet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They settled down to sleep. Romelle and Allura were next to each other, as usual; in the weeks since that horrible night, the girls had stuck together like glue. Comfort and safety in numbers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coran was on Allura’s other side, closest to the door. Shiro set up a few feet away from the girls, and Adam next to him as always. It was natural habit by now, being by each other after years of doing so. Adam laid down, his back to Shiro, only the faint quivering of his ears giving away how tense he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling something cold and heavy settle in his chest, Shiro rolled over, facing away. It was hard enough, losing his little brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now…it was almost like he’d lost Adam, too.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p><p>Me, throwing handfuls of angst full-force at everyone: COME GET Y'ALL'S JUICE</p><p>The adventure begins!!! I'm very excited for the rest of this story!! Be sure to leave a comment before you go!! &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Things We Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith and his new companions rest in the ruins of the old palace for a night before they begin the long journey to Altea. There's something about those old rooms and corridors...and there's something odd about Lance.</p><p>Ten years in the past, Shiro and his companions finally stagger across the border into Altea, wounded and exhausted and pursued by enemies. The crown prince is thrown into a political mess as the country reels from losing several of their politicians in the horrific attack on the Daibazaal palace. To make matters worse, Adam is pushing Shiro further and further away, refusing to let him in. Will the two be able to mend their frayed relationship?</p><p>Or will they both finally shatter under the pressure?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me, sitting bolt upright at 3 am: imma write more angst</p><p>I'm only a little sorry. We're entering the grief and hurt/comfort section of this fic, so expect a lot of angst and feels on the Shiro and Adam side of the narration.</p><p>I've made a playlist for this fic!!! Y'all can find it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEJXuzcRLpH5GOBACnG9_eyF3Is9n4hn4">here!!</a> If you have any song suggestions for what you think might fit, feel free to DM me!!</p><p>TW for this chapter: Shiro's section has some blood and violence at the beginning</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keith couldn’t sleep. There was something about these walls, these rooms, that kept him from being able to relax. Perhaps it was the fact that he was trying to sleep on the floor of a bombed-out building. Or perhaps it was the cool draft blowing in from a wall that had partially collapsed, either in the initial explosion or the decade of neglect since.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scooted his sleeping bag closer to the fire, curling his fingers around Kosmo’s fur. The dog had flopped unceremoniously beside Keith the moment he settled down for the night, and seemed content to stay there until morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith wished he could fall asleep that quickly. Instead, he was lying there, listening to Hunk’s soft snores and Pidge’s sleepy mutters as she turned over in her sleeping bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and turned over, gazing at the flickering orange tongues of flame. It was mesmerizing, staring into the fire as it licked over the logs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the depths of his mind, he could hear screaming. Shouting.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody is leaving here alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A hand clamped over his, dragging him through winding hallways. Smoke. Blood. Fire. A pair of narrowed, determined blue eyes. Darkness. Running. The hand slipping from his grip, the ground rushing up to meet him-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith blinked and shook the thoughts away. His eyes were watering; he’d been staring for longer than he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze skittered over his companions. Pidge was curled up in a ball amongst a nest of blankets and pillows. Her face was turned away from Keith, but he could see her hair, a mess of cowlicks and bedhead. Hunk was curled on his side, also facing away from Keith. And Lance… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned at the empty sleeping bag. Now that he thought of it, Lance had been gone for quite a while. Too long to be relieving himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His senses were on high alert as Keith quietly slipped out of his sleeping bag. He didn’t trust these people as far as he could throw them; he had no idea what Lance was up to, but he was determined to find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his ears pricked for any sound, Keith crept out of the room and into the dusty chamber outside. Silver moonlight filtered in through the broken windows and sections where the walls had crumbled in; vaguely, Keith wondered if there was a chance of the walls collapsing in on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were fresh footprints in the dust, leading away from the room. Keith cautiously began to follow them, ears swiveling to catch any noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still hadn’t entirely forgiven Lance for refusing to help him. He’d had money and was prepared to pay, but the other had turned him away almost without a second glance. Keith was </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find his family. Everything rode on it; his past, his reason for existing. And Lance had refused to help without even hearing Keith out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for Pidge, Keith would probably have been searching for any way to get out of this country all night long. He owed the tiny human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith turned a corner and immediately leaped back, silent on his feet thanks to his Galra side. Thankfully, Lance’s back had been turned; still, it was too close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith cautiously poked his head around the corner, ears pointed toward Lance. The other was slumped against a wall, facing away from Keith. His shirt was lying discarded on the ground beside him, and Keith’s eyes widened at the planes of corded muscle of his back. He had very broad shoulders, narrowing down to a trim waist; Keith had been too busy being angry at him to notice earlier, but now he couldn’t tear his eyes away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he saw the scar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how it wasn’t the first thing he noticed. A huge starburst of scar tissue stretched across Lance’s shoulders and down his back, tapering down and ending just above his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where had he gotten such a scar? Keith couldn’t think of anything that could have caused such a large scar in such an odd shape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance looked like he was in pain; his breathing was labored, and he was gripping the boards of the floor until his knuckles were white. His head knocked against the wall, and he let out a soft whimper that was amplified in the silence of the bombed-out building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith wavered, unsure of what to do. Should he try and comfort Lance? He wasn’t very good at comforting people at the best of times, much less people he didn’t even know. Not to mention that he and Lance weren’t exactly on the best of terms…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Should he walk away? Lance obviously didn’t want anyone to see this; why else would he sneak away in the middle of the night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith was too busy debating with himself to realize that Lance’s breaths were slowing and evening out as whatever pain was plaguing him faded away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Keith’s foot slipped on the wooden floor, slippery with the thick dust. He only barely managed to right himself, but the scuffing sound of his feet sliding on the wood was as loud as a cannon in the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance turned his head at the sound, and Keith lunged back so he wouldn’t be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he’d disappeared around the corner, Keith had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d seen something. Marks on Lance’s cheeks, glowing softly in the silver moonlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Altean.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>On silent feet, Keith crept back to the room where they were all sleeping, wriggling down into his sleeping bag and pretending to be asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments after he went still, Lance appeared in the doorway. Keith kept his eyes open a crack, forcing his ears to lie still and not twitch or follow Lance as the other moved toward his own sleeping bag, gaze sweeping over his sleeping companions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His narrowed gaze swept over Keith, pausing for a moment before moving on. He settled down to sleep, and Keith let out a long breath he had been holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head spun with this new revelation. Alteans were illegal; it was kill-on-sight ever since the Altean royals were chased from the kingdom ten years ago. What was Lance doing in a country full of people who hated his kind and wanted him dead?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith had always heard that Alteans were cruel, evil creatures. It was one of the reasons why he was so desperate to go to Altea to see for himself. Whoever had given him that knife…he didn’t want to believe that they were like all the stories Keith had heard about Alteans. The only way to know for sure was to go find out for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance was kind of a dick, but Keith didn’t think he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>evil.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And Hunk and Pidge, assuming that they, too, were Alteans in disguise, certainly didn’t seem cruel or savage at all. What did they want with Keith, then? Their planning was for him to pose as a royal to both take him to Altea and pull off the heist they needed. Why did they need to go to Altea so badly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Keith understood. In Daibazaal, Alteans were essentially public enemy number one. It wasn’t just dangerous for them here, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>deadly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance and the others were trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>escape.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith felt a little sick, fists clenching in his blanket. No wonder Lance had been so snappish when Keith had first come to him. No wonder Hunk glanced at him when he thought Keith wasn’t looking, and Pidge’s calculating gaze seemed to track his every move. For Alteans, trusting the wrong person could get them killed. And there was no way for them to know who the right person was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t imagine living like that, in hiding and having to watch their every move. Not being able to trust anyone at all. At least they had each other, he thought. They could watch each other’s backs, keep each other safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made sense why they seemed to be just as desperate as Keith to get to Altea. Every minute they stayed here was another where they risked discovery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A good Daibazaal citizen would have reported them. A good citizen would have waited for Lance to fall back asleep before sneaking out to the nearest government enforcer outpost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Keith rolled over and shut his eyes. He needed them just as much as they needed him; their being Altean didn’t change the fact that he needed their help to get out of this country.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, he owed Pidge one.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Four weeks after the attack on the palace</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coran! Get back!” Shiro darted forward, grabbing the older Altean’s arm and pulling him back. A heavy axe slammed into the ground where Coran had been standing moments before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro barely raised his blade in time for another sword to clash against it with a metallic clang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kicked his Galra assailant in the chest, casting a despairing glance to the stand of tall silver trees in the distance. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the Daibazaal/Altea border, but their pursuers had caught up with them. More than a dozen Galra mercenaries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura was holding her own, having taken a razor whip from one of the fallen attackers. She was wielding it with deadly precision, taking off arms and legs and slicing torsos in half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romelle, too, was fighting furiously, her sword gleaming red in the sun. She was battling a Galra several times her size, but she was practically running circles around him, slashing little cuts with her blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam fought like a demon from the old legends. He’d lost his curved blades, and was now dual-wielding long knives against three assailants. He spun on his heel, silver flashing in his hands, and one Galra went down, red slashed across his throat. Without missing a beat, Adam was whirling around again, blocking a blow from the Galra on his left. The one on the right darted in, and Adam </span>
  <em>
    <span>jumped</span>
  </em>
  <span>, locking his thighs around the Galra’s neck and effortlessly flipping him to the ground. He rolled, impaling the downed soldier’s hand with a long knife to keep him down, then swept the other’s legs out from under him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro tore his eyes away from Adam to pay attention to his own battle; he and Coran were standing back to back, swords flashing. They were facing off with four different Galra, surrounding them with sharp grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro dodged beneath one blade, bringing his own in a deadly arc. Blood sprayed across his face, and he whirled, sword clashing against another blade. The Galra was much larger than Shiro, yellow eyes gleaming with glee as she went toe-to-toe with the crown prince of Altea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro dropped, sweeping her legs out from beneath her, and took her out with a quick slash of his blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Coran was just finishing with his own opponents, swiping his sword through the air to take his enemy down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond, the others were finishing as well. Adam fell into a roll and flung his arm out, and silver flashed as three knife hilts sprouted from the neck of one of Allura’s opponents. Romelle finished off her attacker with a flourish, and then all was quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allura wiped her whip clean with the hem of her tunic, Romelle following suit with her sword. Adam straightened, flicking blood from his knives and sliding them into their sheaths. He was covered in cuts and splatters of blood. The last week had not been kind; they were all cut up and bruised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come,” Coran said, sheathing his own blade. His mustache had somehow remained pristine, though the rest of his face was smeared with dirt and blood. He was favoring his left side, but still began to usher them toward the border.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam took his place at Shiro’s side, staying silent as was the new norm. He hadn’t spoken to Shiro for weeks, and shut him down whenever he tried to ask why. That, added to the tension of literally running and hiding for their lives, as well as worrying constantly about little Akira, had nearly driven Shiro insane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, though, Adam was leaning on Shiro just a bit as they all staggered toward the border.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but Adam wasn’t looking at him. His face was pale, his eyes slightly unfocused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyes widened in realization just as Adam’s knees buckled and he collapsed. Shiro only barely managed to grab hold of his waist before he fell, and Adam let out a weak keen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro pulled his hand away from Adam’s side and it came away covered in blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swore in Altean. “Coran, I think his stitches tore!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coran appeared at Shiro’s shoulder. “We must get him to Altea,” he said urgently. “Without help, he won’t survive the next few hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped Adam into his arms, thanking the Ancients he had inherited the legendary Altean strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began to walk, nearly at a jog. Adam moaned, curling into Shiro’s chest, eyes slipping closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, hey!” Shiro’s voice was tinged with panic. “Stay with me, Adam! You need to stay awake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his relief, hazy gold eyes peeled open and met his panicked gray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro glanced up; they were closer to the border, but not close enough; Adam’s blood was making Shiro’s tunic stick to his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh…iro…” Adam’s voice was barely more than a croaked whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m right here, Adam, I’ve got you.” Shiro was babbling, clutching Adam tighter as the border slowly drew closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘M sorry,” Adam whispered, resting his head against Shiro’s shoulder. “‘M so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raw agony and heartbreak in his voice made Shiro’s heart stutter. “Sorry for what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam shook his head, letting out what sounded like a sob. “‘M so sorry,” he repeated, tears gathered in his lashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro ran faster. “It’s okay, Adam, you’re gonna be okay. We’re almost to Altea, we’re almost home. Just hang in there, okay? Stay with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam shuddered, closing his eyes with a whimper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adam, please! Stay awake, you’ve got to stay awake!” Shiro was rambling now, but he didn’t even care. His best friend was literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his arms for the second time in a month. Tears dripped from Shiro’s chin onto Adam’s cheeks, carving trails through the blood and grime. Adam didn’t react; he sagged against Shiro’s chest, going completely limp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Adam!” Shiro’s panicked scream echoed through the trees as he darted over the border, Adam’s weight in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There!” Allura called, pointing; Shiro had forgotten the others were even running beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was pointing to the outpost just ahead. Soldiers would be stationed there, guarding the border…and medics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro had never run so fast in his life. They appeared at the entrance, and a doctor came running with a stretcher. Shiro laid Adam down, and then he was being taken away into the infirmary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro and the others stood there, in shock. They were in Altea. After a month of fear, of tension and blood and exhaustion, they were finally safe.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Three days later</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro slumped into the chair with an exhausted sigh. He’d been given a short time to rest and recover from his injuries, but Altea was in chaos. More than a dozen Altean government representatives had been in attendance at the Daibazaal palace when the attacks had occurred, and there were many of that number either dead or missing. Shiro needed to step in and rule, even though he really wanted to curl up and sleep for a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t even organize search parties for Akira yet; not until he replaced the missing representatives and issued an address to the Altean people, and a whole list of other acts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro hadn’t even been able to visit Adam in the three days since they made it, until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was asleep; the doctor had said that he would likely be waking up sometime in the next few hours. Which was why Shiro was sitting here, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam would be confused when he awoke; even before he’d lost consciousness during Shiro’s mad dash across the border, he’d been delirious with pain and blood loss. Shiro wasn’t sure how much Adam would remember; for all the bodyguard knew, they might still be in Daibazaal, running for their lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Shiro desperately needed to talk to him. What had he been so desperate to apologize about? Even when he was dying, Adam had been crying, almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleading</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Shiro had never seen Adam so…</span>
  <em>
    <span>open.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d been able to see into Adam’s eyes, into his soul, and he’d only seen pure, raw </span>
  <em>
    <span>agony </span>
  </em>
  <span>that was so deep and profound that Shiro still got shivers whenever he thought of it. Whatever Adam was wanting to apologize for…it was tearing him apart inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro swallowed a lump of dread, curling his fingers around Adam’s. The Galra looked much like he had during the first few days of their journey to Altea; lying still on the bed, wrapped in bandages, chest gently rising and falling with each breath. He was thinner, though, more gaunt. The untreated injuries and exhaustion had taken their toll on him. On all of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the chair. He was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so tired.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He slipped into a light doze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometime later, Shiro snapped awake when someone whispered his name. Adam’s eyes were open, his grip on Shiro’s hand tightening a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Shiro said, unable to keep the soft smile from his face. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam shrugged as much as he could while laying down. “Kinda like I’ve been run over by a carriage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro huffed out a chuckle, and for a moment everything was like it had been…before. As quickly as it had come, though, it was gone. Adam’s expression shuttered, and he looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro felt his heart break a little. “Why are you doing that? You’re avoiding me.” He paused, looking down. “If something’s wrong, I need you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Adam looked at Shiro, his face was unreadable. He pushed himself up, wincing as he settled against the headboard in a sitting position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Adam.” Shiro whispered. “Talk to me. What were you apologizing for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam met his gaze, and Shiro felt like he’d been punched in the gut. That look was back, that awful, gut-wrenching, agonizing look of sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>heartbreak.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro waited, heart pounding, but Adam didn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze dropped, his body shifting and angling away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More fractures appeared, working their way through Shiro’s heart. First Akira. Now Adam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam didn’t move when Shiro stood. He didn’t move when Shiro walked away. And he didn’t move when Shiro disappeared, closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Shiro’s heart broke.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:) I'm sorry :) I hope y'all are ready for the coming angst, because it's gonna be heavy :)</p><p>I am a WHORE for the trope where one character holds the other as they bleed out, pleading for them to stay awake. It was bound to show up here at some point. And it won't be the last time ;)</p><p>Thanks for reading, everyone! Don't forget to check out the playlist and leave a comment!! &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3 Love y'all!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Adam's Interlude-The Art of Drowning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyo!!! This is a very short chapter, but I wanted to write something even though I didn't really have a lot of free time today.</p><p>I was looking for male covers of "Once Upon a December" and found <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3qNd-QBq94">this one</a> that I really really love. There's a lot of talented singers that I listened to, and I love all the covers, but this is the one that I thought sounded closest to what I imagine Keith's singing voice would sound like :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something to be said for weight. The crushing of his lungs, the blackness that overtook his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dark and cold and so, so empty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said for drowning. The struggle to breathe, the feeling of sinking deeper, deeper, deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grasping hands latching around his ankles and pulling him down, down, into the crushing blackness of the deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Revenge. Justice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said for burning. The agony of the flames, watching his tainted hands crumble to ash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ache as he watched Takashi walk away, yet did nothing. The pain of seeing him crumble, yet not piecing him back together again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The torture of knowing that if Takashi knew…</span>
  <em>
    <span>if he knew…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He would walk away forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said for ancient stone. Immovable, indomitable, yet crumbling away into nothing. Temples and tombs and grand palaces, now nothing but rubble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly breaking apart, piece by little piece.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said for glass. Fractures across crystalline planes. Fragments cracking and breaking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the shatter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said for the broken pieces scattered across the floor. Of crumbling stone, falling apart after holding together for so long. Of flames, of heat and pain and ashes. Of cold, black water closing over his face. Of the weight crushing what was left of his heart, grinding it into dust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So cold. So empty. So tormented. So <em>broken</em>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>like</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3&lt;3 thanks for reading, lovelies!!</p><p>I expect your down payment of tears and shouting :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Road Trip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith and his new companions begin the long journey to Altea...but they're not entirely alone.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kind of a short chapter today, but there's barely any angst!!! Yay!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keith mentally reminded himself not to get on Pidge’s bad side. The girl, despite her tiny size, was muscling through the crowd, slipping into tiny spaces between people and squeezing through. Hunk’s approach was much more polite; he apologized and excused himself as his wide frame carved a swathe of open space through the crowd. Keith was walking directly behind Hunk, alongside Lance and Kosmo, using Hunk as a buffer through the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith kept a hand on Kosmo’s ruff to keep him from bolting into the crowd; now and again he lifted his head, ears pricked forward and scenting the air as he caught a whiff of someone’s breakfast. Keith hoped the dog wouldn’t run off and disappear; he was growing attached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance was trotting along in his usual obnoxious manner, keeping up an endless stream of chatter that grated on Keith’s nerves. Gone was any sign of whatever pain or discomfort he had been in the night before--and gone was Keith’s sympathy with the return of Lance’s obnoxious attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Keith stood on the very tips of his toes, he could peer over Hunk’s shoulder to catch sight of the train that would take them out of Arus. It was sleek and streamlined, gleaming with dark metal and purple highlights in the rising morning sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith tugged his black scarf tighter around his chin, adjusting the strap of his pack. Hunk had given it to him early that morning as they packed their things to leave; the large teen had made a small breakfast of eggs and bagels, and Keith was certain that he’d never eaten such delicious food; which…admittedly wasn’t saying much. After all, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> grown up in an orphanage. In any case, he was perfectly happy to be travelling with Hunk for the next few months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d gone over the travel plan that morning, Pidge laying out maps and Lance leaning over them. His shirt had ridden up, revealing a strip of smooth brown skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The new regime set up ten years ago after the coup was strict; it was notoriously difficult to leave the country. No trains or ships directly left Daibazaal, so Keith and his companions would have to make much of the journey on foot. This train would only take them a few cities away, from which they would need to walk to the next station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith would have preferred to take a train directly to Altea, but he knew this was his only choice and so it would have to do. His heart was racing, his ears trembling to contain his excitement and nerves. He was finally on his way home. He’d finally be able to find whoever had given him his knife, whoever had once loved him enough to gift him with such a lovely and expensive object.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb brushed unconsciously over the words, as was his habit. Keith drew comfort from it, what little comfort he could. He could feel the love someone had had for him as they carved those words, perhaps as they gave it to him, a warm smile on their face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone shoved into him, and Keith yelped, only barely catching himself from tripping into Hunk’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it,” the Galra growled, glowering at Keith. He was massive, all broad shoulders and rippling muscle, with an eyepatch over one eye. His yellow eye narrowed, taking in Keith’s features, calculating. A nametag on his barrel chest read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ranveig</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a jagged, sharp hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith murmured an apology, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that squirmed in his gut. He felt Ranvieg’s gaze boring into him long after the massive Galra was hidden by the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking off his unease, Keith followed Hunk and Pidge to the train. They climbed on in a blur; the ticket officers only glanced at their hurriedly forged tickets before waving them aboard, but according to Lance, another officer would come by every booth after the train left to double-check the tickets. They would need to create a higher-quality forgery beforehand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four travellers settled into their car, Keith immediately claiming a window seat. Pidge plopped across from him, pulling the faux tickets out and laying them onto the small desk that swung out from an alcove. Hunk sat beside her, taking out jars of ink. He set to work, head bent over the tickets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance came in last, nearly tripping over Kosmo as the dog sat by Keith’s feet, resting his chin on Keith’s lap. Seeing that the only open seat was next to Keith, Lance sighed heavily and sat down, long, lanky limbs sprawling outward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing that the two were sitting beside each other, Pidge pulled out her notebook, flipping to the right page. Keith and Lance’s names were at the top, followed by a few tally marks for each. They had been sniping at each other almost since they first met, and Pidge was entertaining herself accordingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith slumped down in his seat as the train pulled out and began to move, chugging out from the crowded station. He fidgeted, running the pads of his fingers over the smooth, cool metal of his knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance lightly smacked his arm. “Stop fiddling with that! You need to sit up straight--remember, you’re royalty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith huffed, rolling his eyes. “How do you know everything about royalty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance folded his arms, lip stuck out in a pout. “I know everything about everybody,” he said smoothly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith leveled a glare at him. “Then you know what I do to annoying people?” He pointedly ran his fingers over his knife again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge held back a smirk as she scratched a tally mark on Keith’s side. So far, Lance was falling miserably behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance let out an offended sound, glaring at Keith. “I am the only person here who can help teach you to be royalty. Do you want my help or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith hummed in consideration, enjoying how Lance’s voice rose in pitch when he got upset. “Well…you really think I’m royalty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance huffed. “Of course I do. Why else would I be helping you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith turned his back on Lance to stare out the window. “Then stop bossing me around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance’s outraged sputtering was music to his ears. Pidge snickered as she marked that one down; Keith was almost better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pidge sat back, marking her “Shots Fired” page with her finger and closing the notebook. She certainly wouldn’t be lacking for entertainment on this trip, that was for sure.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Ranvieg lounged in the booth, idly watching the countryside blur by. He normally wasn’t one for sightseeing, but he wanted to avoid detection. He couldn’t be certain that the boy wouldn’t recognize him from the platform and be suspicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy certainly looked different now, likely his Altean side helping to conceal his identity; there was no other way he could have survived this long without. But Ranvieg had seen the tiny prince up close, ten years ago as he raced to murder him once and for all. He knew those eyes, those furry little ears, that pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finished his message, slipping the scroll into a waterproof case and attaching it to the messenger hawk’s leg. It was trained to fly to the next city over, Naxzela. From there, the message would be relayed to the next city, and the next, and the next, until it reached the headquarters of the enforcers. Sendak’s headquarters, more specifically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a simple message, just a few words. But Ranvieg knew Sendak, and he knew that the Galra leader would take immediate and appropriate action.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akira lives. Travelling to Altea with three others. I am in pursuit. Awaiting further instructions.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, y'all! See you next chapter!! &lt;3&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Bonding and Late-Night Chats</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith and co. are slowly but steadily making their way to Altea. He still doesn't trust any of them, but perhaps some one-on-one chats may change that...</p><p>Meanwhile, ten years in the past, Adam and Shiro are farther apart than ever. After months of avoiding each other and refusing to open up, alongside the political uproar in Altea, their friendship is stretched to the breaking point. If both parties don't do something soon...they'll lose each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*finger guns* hello! The last few chapters were kinda short but this should make up for them!! &lt;3</p><p>I have been waiting to write this part of Adam and Shiro's story almost since this fic began!! I hope it doesn't disappoint ;) That said, there is a horror scene in the first section of Adam's POV. I will mark the beginning and end with ****. If horror isn't your thing, just skip that section, and I will put a brief non-graphic description in the end notes of what you missed :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had only been travelling for a few hours, but Keith was about ready to toss Lance out the train window. Or jump out himself.</p><p>He just <em> never stopped moving. </em> His leg bounced, or he threw an arm around Pidge or Hunk. The former would hiss at him like a cat, but Hunk always carried on as if Lance draping himself across his back was completely normal. Knowing Lance, it probably was.</p><p>Hours later, after finishing with their forged tickets, Pidge had curled into a ball on the seat beside Keith, pulling a blanket from her massive bag and wrapping herself in it until just the very top of her head poked out in a messy nest of copper hair.</p><p>Lance was curled up on the seat beside Hunk, his lanky frame tucked beneath a blanket, snoring away as the train rattled on over the tracks.</p><p>Hunk appeared to be tinkering with scraps of metal, with Kosmo flopped across his lap like the attention-seeking dog that he was. Hunk scratched behind Kosmo’s ears occasionally, and the dog snuggled into Hunk’s lap with a content sigh.</p><p>Keith was leaning against the window, reading a book that Pidge had lent him. He hadn’t really been into reading much, as the orphanage hadn’t been able to afford very many books, but he was enjoying the story, even if it was a little ridiculous. He had never seen any giant colorful cats, much less ones that lived among the stars.</p><p>The sun had long since sunk beneath the distant hills when Hunk, too, fell fast asleep, and it was just Pidge and Keith awake. The girl emerged from her pile of blankets, honey gaze studying Keith. He didn’t sense any hostility radiating from her, just…curiosity. When she spoke, her voice was soft in the silence of their car.</p><p>“So…you really don’t remember anything about your past?”</p><p>Keith lowered his book, marking his place. “...yeah.” He normally wasn’t one for small talk, but something about the girl’s quiet, reserved nature made him feel more at ease.</p><p>Pidge shifted in the blankets, her eyes never leaving his face. “I can’t imagine what that must be like,” she murmured softly. “Not knowing who I am, or where I came from.”</p><p>“It’s…not easy,” Keith admitted. The words barely scratched the surface of how he really felt about it. He’d spent his whole life adrift on an endless sea, with a broken compass and no way to know which way was home. Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier to just let the water consume him than keep surviving on nothing but a wish and a hope.</p><p>Shaking himself from his thoughts, Keith turned to face Pidge. “So, why are you headed to Altea?”</p><p>Pidge blinked at him. “What?”</p><p>Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. I know there must be something in this whole arrangement to benefit you. So, what is it?”</p><p>Pidge’s eyes dropped to the floor, her fingers absently smoothing down Kosmo’s fur. “You’re not the only one trying to find their family,” she said finally.</p><p>Keith rested his elbows on his knees, silently listening as Pidge’s story haltingly spilled from her lips.</p><p>“We lived near the palace. Both my parents worked there. When the Altean royal family was driven out ten years ago, my parents disappeared and it was just my brother and I.” Pidge’s gaze was far away as she continued, voice barely above a whisper. “They…they came for him just last year. Dragged him away, kicking and screaming.” She let out a hoarse chuckle, eyes glistening with tears. “Matt was never one to go quietly.”</p><p>Keith was unsure of what to do; he was never good at comforting people, but he wanted to help Pidge <em> somehow. </em> After a moment, he removed his red jacket and draped it over her small shoulders, wordlessly tucking it around her.</p><p>Pidge didn’t say anything, but she wrapped the jacket around her middle, her lips ticking up at the corners in a grateful smile. On her cheeks, faint green marks flared once before disappearing again.</p><p>“If my parents made it out ten years ago, they’re in Altea,” Pidge continued. “So…I’m going there to find whatever family I have left.”</p><p>Something warm bloomed in Keith’s chest; understanding, perhaps. Maybe even companionship. He and Pidge were kindred spirits, both trying to find their families and where they belonged.</p><p>“I think…if your family has even one fraction of your determination, they’re alive and they’re looking for you,” Keith said finally. He wasn’t saying it just to make Pidge feel better; he’d only known her for a few days, but he could already tell that she was one of the most determined and driven people he had ever known.</p><p>Pidge smiled a little, shifting so she leaned slightly against Keith’s side. Normally, Keith didn’t like being touched, but there was something about the darkness of their car, the rumbling of the train over the tracks, the slight trembling of Pidge’s frame as she held back tears, that made Keith loop an arm around her shoulders and gently rub small circles into her upper arm.</p><p>The train rumbled on through the night.</p><p>And Keith couldn't help but wonder if he had once had a little sister, and held her like this.</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Four months after the return to Altea</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The hallways were empty as Adam paced through them, going about his rounds. The other royal guards, Antok, Kolivan, and Regris, were taking the shift at the royals’ chamber doors, so Adam was patrolling the floor for any sign of intruders.</p><p>Since returning, many people in Altea who were sympathizers for those in Daibazaal had been sending assassins to try and finish the job. All attempts failed, thanks to the increased security in these troubling times, but Adam couldn’t help but wonder how long their luck would last.</p><p>Not that Shiro talked to him about these things anymore. After trying and failing to get Adam to speak, Shiro began to drift away, asking more and more often to be escorted or shadowed by Kolivan or Antok instead. It hurt, pushing Shiro away like this. Being pushed away in return. But it would hurt even more to tell him why.</p><p>Adam shoved the thoughts and feelings down as he had done for the last four months since losing Akira, for the last six years since King Alfor’s death. He was a royal bodyguard. His thoughts and emotions were unimportant, his countenance like stone.</p><p><em> No emotion. No hesitation. </em> The age-old mantra ran through his mind, the one that had been pounded into his head almost since he could walk. The creed of his people, of his profession.</p><p>Adam turned a corner and stopped short, a hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. A figure stood in the hallway, their back to him, wearing a long, hooded black cloak.</p><p>“Who goes there?” Adam’s voice was stern, all business. “Identify yourself!”</p><p>
  <strong>****</strong>
</p><p>The figure turned, and Adam jerked back in shock. He was Balmeran, his thick, craggy skin marred with scars. His eyes were black and empty, like a shark’s.</p><p>Adam recognized him. He could never forget this face.</p><p>He was the first person Adam had ever killed.</p><p>He’d been protecting Shiro, of course; it had been both boys’ first assassination attempt. The huge Balmeran had thrown the guards aside and rushed the podium, reaching for Shiro. Adam’s blade had gone in between the Balmeran’s eyes; he’d died only a few feet away.</p><p>How was this possible? He had been dead for years.</p><p>Was Adam finally going insane?</p><p>The Balmeran stepped closer, eyes fixed on Adam. There was a gaping hole between his eyes, and Adam caught a glimpse of gray brain matter. His jaws parted, and black mist flowed from his mouth along with his words, low and hateful.</p><p>
  <em> “Monster.” </em>
</p><p>Ears laying flat against his head in terror, Adam scrambled backward as the Balmeran approached, drawing his swords. His hands were trembling slightly as he held them out.</p><p>The Balmeran took another step forward again, and Adam stepped back. He bumped into something solid, and scrambled away, keeping his gaze on both the Balmeran and whoever he had bumped into.</p><p>It was an Altean this time, with pale violet marks. Another would-be assassin from years ago. Just like the Balmeran, her eyes were empty and dead. Just like she should be. But instead, she, too, began to stumble toward Adam. Mist poured from her mouth as she hissed,</p><p>
  <em> “Murderer.” </em>
</p><p>“Stay back!” Adam’s voice trembled as he swept his blades in an arc, trying to ward them off. “D-Don’t come any closer!”</p><p>
  <em> “Killer.” </em>
</p><p>The new voice came from a short Olkari, his chest ripped open and revealing his still heart. Another person Adam had killed in the name of defending the royal family.</p><p>The three converged on Adam, closing in on all sides. More appeared, melting from the shadows, rising from the marble floors. Each one was a face Adam knew. Each one was somebody he had killed. Each one bore a terrible wound. Each one stared with dead, empty eyes, glittering with hatred. Their whispers were insistent, like the tide, overlapping each other and growing harsher as they closed in, surrounding him on all sides.</p><p>
  <em> Monster. Killer. Freak. Murderer. Monster. Killer, killer, killer. </em>
</p><p>Adam’s back hit the wall, and he cried out, a pitiful whine of sheer desperation and terror.</p><p>Then a new voice came, a single, uttered word that cut through the din of whispers. A voice that sliced Adam to the bone.</p><p>
  <em> “Failure.” </em>
</p><p>His whole body was shaking now, and Adam slowly turned his head, already knowing who he would see.</p><p>King Alfor stood there, a shell of his former glory. His white hair was dry as straw, his eyes that same dead, awful black. His voice was full of malice as he spoke again.</p><p>
  <em> “You should be here instead of me. You should be among the dead, instead of me.” </em>
</p><p>Adam shook his head, shaking so hard he could barely get a word out. “N-No, I-I-” His voice was very, very small.</p><p><em> “I should be with my children,” </em> Alfor hissed, eyes glinting with hate. <em> “I should be there for Shiro because you are not.” </em></p><p>Adam tried to back away, but he was surrounded on all sides by dead eyes and awful, gaping wounds.</p><p>Alfor limped forward, black liquid gushing from the gaping wound over his heart, accompanying the foul dark mist that spilled from his lips. <em> “I should be alive,” </em> he rasped. <em> “But I’m not…and it’s your fault.” </em></p><p>The specters trapping Adam all took up the chant, their whispers like so many dead leaves.</p><p>
  <em> Your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault. </em>
</p><p>Adam couldn’t speak; he had dropped his swords, and was defenseless as they closed in, still whispering.</p><p>
  <em> Murderer. Killer. Your fault. Monster. Freak. Your fault. </em>
</p><p>They were so close now that Adam couldn’t reach out a hand without touching them, and still they crowded closer. When they were so close that he almost couldn’t see through the dark masses of specters, they stopped suddenly.</p><p>A tiny figure, the smallest of them all, pushed to the front, and Adam froze. Akira’s eyes were empty and dead just like the rest of them. His skin was fragile and papery, his hair falling out in clumps. He tilted his head to the side, like he always did when he was curious.</p><p>
  <em> “Why didn’t you save me?” </em>
</p><p>Adam let out a choked sob, fear and guilt and desperation clawing its way up his throat.</p><p>Akira didn’t move, keeping his head in the same tilted position. His high-pitched voice repeated the question.</p><p>
  <em> “Why didn’t you save me?” </em>
</p><p>Adam sank to his knees, shaking. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Akira smiled then, a painted smile that stretched the fragile skin until it began to crack. Black liquid oozed from the cracks, spilling down his chin and dripping to the floor.</p><p>
  <em> “You should be.” </em>
</p><p>And the specters closed in.</p><p>Hands clamped over Adam’s shoulders, around his waist, around his legs. Fingers tangled roughly in his hair, yanked on his tail and ears, wrestled him to the ground. He struggled harder than he’d ever fought in his life, wriggling and fighting and screaming, but no matter how hard he hit or clawed, they didn’t react. Black liquid gushed from the new wounds he inflicted upon them, but they didn’t even seem to feel the pain.</p><p>And one by one, the specters began to sink into the floor. Into shadow. And they dragged Adam with them. The shadows were chillingly cold, like sinking into an icy bath. Adam screamed and clawed at the ground, but the specters gripping his legs just dragged him further.</p><p>Akira and Alfor stood over him as he sank lower, Alfor looking impassive, and Akira smiling sweetly. Alfor’s voice was the last thing Adam heard, a harsh, hateful whisper.</p><p>
  <em> Your fault. Monster. </em>
</p><p>And the shadows closed over Adam’s face.</p><p>
  <strong>****</strong>
</p><p>He woke with a scream, thrashing and struggling as he shot upright.</p><p>Adam’s breaths came in sharp, frantic pants as his eyes darted around his small bedroom, searching for threats that had been there moments before. It seemed to take an eternity before his breathing slowed and his grip on his sword hilts relaxed. He still trembled, but he was in control again.</p><p>Adam’s door opened a crack, and Romelle poked her head inside.</p><p>“Are you all right, Adam? I heard you…were you having a nightmare?”</p><p>Part of Adam wanted to turn Romelle away, to insist he was fine. But the other part of Adam, the part that still cried at night, the part that <em> ached </em> because Shiro was so far beyond his reach now and it was <em> all his fault, </em> knew that Adam desperately didn’t want to be alone.</p><p>He nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. Romelle entered the room, crossing to sit at the foot of his bed.</p><p>Her voice was soft. “What do you need?”</p><p>Adam shifted closer, desperate for comfort. “Can…can I…?”</p><p>Romelle leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Adam’s middle. Her head only barely grazed his chin, but Adam folded into Romelle’s embrace, clutching at her nightshirt like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning.</p><p>They sat like that for some time, Romelle’s hand rubbing Adam’s back as his tremors gradually slowed and his grip on her shirt slowly relaxed.</p><p>Romelle broke the long silence. “Adam, you must not keep all of this inside. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re feeling, you cannot keep it locked up.”</p><p>Adam exhaled shakily. His voice was so soft it was barely audible. “I know.”</p><p>“Shiro’s worried about you, Adam.” Romelle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “We all are. We can see that you’re hurting, but you’re not letting us help.”</p><p>“I-I can’t,” Adam whispered. He swallowed. “It’s for the best.” Because if Shiro and Allura and Romelle knew, they would hate him. He knew they would.</p><p>But he was so tired of carrying the burden alone. He was so tired of pushing everyone away.</p><p>“I just…I don’t want to lose him,” Adam whispered, feeling the press of tears. “I don’t want to lose any of you.”</p><p>Romelle pulled back from the hug; her eyes were sorrowful. “Adam, you’re losing Shiro already.” She shook her head. “He’s pushing you away because he cannot watch you suffer in silence any longer, but you refuse to let him help.”</p><p>Adam looked away, blinking back tears.</p><p>Romelle continued. “Adam, if you want to remain his friend, you <em> must </em> talk to him.”</p><p>Adam swallowed, his emotions churning. “I…I’m  scared,” he admitted. Scared of them all finding out, scared of what Shiro’s expression would be when Adam told him. Would it be hatred? Fear? Sadness? Some combination of the three?</p><p>Romelle’s expression softened. “I know,” she murmured. “But you must; otherwise you’ll lose him forever. You must speak to him, and you must do it now before you lose your resolve.”</p><p>Adam mustered his courage and met her eyes. “I…he’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him.”</p><p>Romelle’s lips curled upward in a small, sad smile. “He’s already awake,” she said. “Allura is speaking to him. When she is finished, so will you.”</p><hr/><p>So much for being strong for his sister. Allura was there to witness Shiro break down, months of grief and worry and stress finally making him snap.</p><p>“I can’t do it anymore, ‘Llura,” he whispered. “I <em> can’t. </em> ‘Kira’s out there somewhere, and there’s insurgents trying to assassinate me every other week, and the politicians are up my ass trying to get bills and laws passed, and Adam’s not talking to me, and I <em> can’t do it anymore.” </em></p><p>Allura rubbed his back, staying silent. Letting Shiro let it all out.</p><p>He sighed shakily, leaning back against the pillows. “I’m sorry,” Shiro mumbled, covering his face with his flesh hand. “I don’t want to put any of this on you-”</p><p>“Stop.” Allura’s hand covered his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. “You cannot keep this inside. You must let it out, or it will destroy you.”</p><p>Shiro hesitated. He was the eldest, the one who was supposed to keep everyone safe. He’d failed Akira; he couldn’t bear to fail Allura, too.</p><p>As if reading his mind, Allura flicked his ear. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “It is all right for you to be the one who is taken care of.” She paused, stroking his wrist with her thumb. “Please. Let me comfort you, for once. You need it.”</p><p>Shiro hesitated, then nodded slowly. Allura pulled him into a hug, trailing her fingers up and down Shiro’s spine.</p><p>They stayed there for some time, Shiro matching his breathing to his sister’s. In all the times they had sat like this in the night, Shiro comforting Allura from a nightmare she had had or holding her as she cried over their lost brother, it had always been Shiro comforting Allura. Now, Allura’s hand cupped the back of Shiro’s head, stroking his short hair; the other rubbed comforting circles on Shiro’s back.</p><p>After Shiro’s legs began to go numb, he reluctantly pulled back from the embrace. He felt so much better now; he could breathe easily again, and his turbulent emotions had calmed somewhat.</p><p>“Thank you, ‘Llura.”</p><p>She smiled at him, her marks glowing in the darkness. Her silver hair tumbled down to just above her shoulders. “It’s what we do,” she replied. “We help <em> each other, </em> understand?”</p><p>Shiro chuckled. “Yes, I understand.” He ruffled Allura’s hair. “You’d better go off to bed now; it’s late.”</p><p>Allura smiled and stood. Shiro walked with her to his bedroom door, and Allura opened it to leave.</p><p>They both paused in surprise to see Adam standing there, fist raised to knock. Romelle stood behind him, wearing her nightclothes. She waved vigorously to Allura, who glanced between Shiro and Adam before slipping past the bodyguard on her way out.</p><p>“...good night?” Allura sounded very confused, but Romelle tugged on her arm, and the two girls disappeared down the hall.</p><p>Shiro took a fortifying breath before turning to Adam. He hadn’t spoken to him in months; every time Shiro had tried to talk to him, Adam shut him down. And now here he stood, in his rumpled pajamas, looking like he’d rather be back in Daibazaal than be standing there.</p><p>“Adam.” Shiro’s voice was flat, wary; Adam winced. When he spoke, his voice was a soft, tentative whisper.</p><p>“Can…can we talk?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me, holding all the scenes of siblings comforting each other this chapter: I just think they're neat<br/>On that note, Keith and Pidge are unofficial siblings, and so are Romelle and Adam, and y'all can FIGHT me on that</p><p>****For those of you who skipped the horror section, it was Adam's nightmare where all the people he's killed over the years (while defending the royal family) appeared. They called him "monster," "killer," "murderer," etc, and then Alfor appeared and blamed Adam for failing and saying it was his fault Alfor was dead. Akira appeared and asked why Adam didn't save him. Then all the people dragged Adam into the floor, and he woke up****</p><p>Do mine eyes deceive me?? Are our boys ACTUALLY going to TALK to each other??? Remains to be seen ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Much-Needed Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adam and Shiro have a long-awaited talk; souls are bared, secrets revealed, and a friendship is either strengthened and refined...or torn to pieces.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again, everybody! Sorry for being MIA again! I've been starting work on the first prompt for the Klance AU Month starting on February 1st, and it's quickly turning out to be a monster of a chapter. I wanted to drop another chapter here really quick before I get into the prompt month, because I likely won't be able to update any of my other fics during that time. I'll (hopefully!) be posting a new prompt every day for the month of February, and I'm way excited for the 1st so I can post my first prompt! I'm very proud of it so far!</p><p>This is a very heavy chapter! Adam and Shiro have a lot to talk about, and a lot of emotional turmoil and trauma to work through together. This is where the angst tags majorly come into play (also take note of the new "abuse" tags!! That comes into play in this chapter!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Adam had done many terrifying things in his life. He’d brought down opponents that were several times his size. He fought off several soldiers at once. He crossed blades with Sendak, arguably the most dangerous Galra in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had never been as afraid as he was now, sitting at the foot of Shiro’s bed, curled up to be as small as possible. His ears were probably trembling, his tail twitching, but Adam was too wired to care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro sat against the headboard, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression neutral. It did not escape Adam’s attention that the Altean prince was sitting as far away from him as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Shiro said finally, after staring Adam down. “You avoid me for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then you come in the middle of the night because you ‘want to talk?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s ears drooped slightly, curling back in apprehension. “I…didn’t know how to tell you,” he responded quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what?” Shiro’s voice was unusually sharp. “That you’re hurting, and you don’t trust me enough to let me in? Or that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>pushing everyone away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> trust you,” Adam said, meeting Shiro’s eyes for the first time since entering his room. His gray eyes were nearly black in the darkness, simmering with anger and hurt. “I trust you more than anyone,” he added quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me, Adam!” Shiro cried in exasperation. “Ancients, at least tell me what’s going on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam opened his mouth to speak, but Shiro carried on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not sleeping,” he said, voice rising. “You barely eat anymore, you don’t talk to anyone, and you look like hell!” He paused, inhaling deeply before sighing. “Please stop doing this to yourself, Adam,” Shiro whispered. “I can’t watch you tear yourself apart like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were damp; still angry, still hurt, but there was grief there, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at each other in the darkness, Shiro waiting for Adam, and Adam gathering his courage to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Adam murmured finally. “I was…scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of what?” Shiro wasn’t shouting anymore; his voice was weary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam inhaled shakily; it was now or never, before he lost his nerve and left. And lost his best friend forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just…if you hate me, after I tell you this…I won’t blame you,” Adam whispered. He wouldn’t blame Shiro for hating him…after all, how could he, when Adam hated himself already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s brows furrowed, and he sat forward, his anger fading somewhat but still simmering in the background. “You know I could never hate you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Adam whispered, his voice breaking. “Don’t say that until I tell you. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s brows furrowed even further, but he sat back. “Okay.” His voice was so soft, it barely filled the space between them. “Okay. Then…tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam leaned back against the bedpost, pulling his knees to his chest and curling his tail around his legs. He closed his eyes, took a fortifying breath, squared his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he opened his mouth, and told Shiro everything.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>The king cut an impressive shadow over the cluster of young Galra. He </span>
  </em>
  <span>radiated </span>
  <em>
    <span>power from the very top of his gold circlet to the tips of his riding boots.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam stood straighter, pulling his shoulders back and leveling his chin parallel to the ground, hands firmly clasped behind his back. The other Galra kits, the other students, were all larger and older than Adam. They were there because their parents wanted them to be Altea’s next great royal guard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not Adam. He was there because he had to prove himself. His grandfather had been the head of the royal guard under King Alfor’s father, King Vorrin; and he wanted Adam to be the head of the royal guard for King Alfor. So his grandfather took him to the building where every bodyguard for the Altean royal family since the beginning of time had been trained. They’d taken him in, trained him to fight. Raised him to be a killer. Even if it was for a noble cause, the sentiment was the same. They’d taken a young Galra kit, barely old enough not to mewl for his mother, and turned him into a cold-hearted killer.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam was younger than his fellow bodyguards-in-training. Smaller, weaker.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or so the others had thought when he’d first joined.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was small, so he used it to his advantage. He ducked beneath the others’ blows, wriggling out of holds that nobody else could escape. He was fast. He was strong. And he trained ten times harder than any of them</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was why he was going to be chosen. He had to be chosen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If you do not become the bodyguard to King Alfor,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Adam’s grandfather had hissed, gripping his arm so hard it hurt,</span>
  </em>
  <span> then you cannot call yourself my grandson.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>King Alfor paced back and forth, his sharp blue gaze sweeping over the rowdy Galra kits. They were all brawling with each other, as was the custom, proving their strength and ingenuity in battle. All were fighting, yowling and hissing, clawing and biting; all except one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam stood to the side, ignoring the sounds of his classmates tearing into each other. He stood with his gaze straight ahead, his expression blank. He was a bodyguard. Any emotion he showed was a weakness. Any hesitation was foolery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor stopped pacing, right in front of Adam. His gaze didn’t waver; his stance didn’t falter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How old are you?” Alfor’s question caught him off guard, but he hid it behind a blank mask of indifference.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nearly seven deca-phoebs, Your Highness.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor hummed in consideration. “Awfully young for a bodyguard, don’t you think?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“For the duty of the people, no age is too young.” Adam recited. It was a practiced response, one his grandfather had pounded into his head along with the other bodyguard mantras and ideologies.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And why do you not engage with the others?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam’s response was just as mechanical as the last. “It is not my duty to show off my prowess.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor gazed down at the kit, at his stiff posture, his blank expression. He stood like one of Alfor’s bodyguards, a professional. He was the perfect choice; Alfor could tell just by looking at him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But…he was a kit. The other guards-in-training were deca-phoebs older than he. The life of a bodyguard was not one for a tiny kit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But if Alfor refused him, then the kit would be scorned by his family. Perhaps even exiled; it was cruel, but it was the Galra way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn’t in good conscience bring this kit into a life of death threats, of battles, of life or death; nor could he subject him to his family’s wrath.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But…if he were to assign this kit to one of his children…yes, that would work. The royal children were rarely threatened by assassins; and by the time they were considered “important enough” to be attacked, then the kit would be more than old enough to handle it well.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takashi was old enough for his own bodyguard by now. Looking at the tiny kit, Alfor wondered if it would be good for both of them. Takashi had such a hard time finding playmates; after all, there weren’t very many small children in a palace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And…Takashi could help this kit be a child again. Alfor had never agreed with the old Galra creed of sending their young kits to become warriors; looking at this kit, who by all rights should be playing and laughing but was instead standing stiff and in formation…Alfor wanted to help him. He wanted to free him, to let him be a child as he should be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He really didn’t have much of a choice, then.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE TASK!” Adam’s grandfather’s thunderous voice boomed around Adam; the adult Galra loomed over the kit, monstrous in his rage.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry,” Adam tried to say, but his grandfather’s voice drowned him out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“YOU HAVE FAILED ME. YOUR NAME IS A BLIGHT ON THIS FAMILY. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN THIS HOUSE, NOW OR EVER!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam had tried to speak again, to explain that he was still a member of the royal guard, just not for the king himself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“SHUT UP, RAT!” And his grandfather viciously backhanded him across the face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam fell to the floor with a cry; no sooner had he hit the ground than his grandfather descended with his cane, beating every part of Adam’s body that he could.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam curled into a ball to protect himself from the blows, unable to hide the trembling of his ears. Tears streamed silently down his face, but he hid them as best he could.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"YOU ARE A DISAPPOINTMENT! I TOLD YOU TO BECOME A MEMBER OF THE </span>
  </em>
  <span>KING'S<em> GUARD, NOT SOME SNIVELLING PRINCE!"</em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then there was the sound of the door breaking down, and people rushed inside. Voices called out, but the most prominent was the voice of the king, much louder and scarier than Grandfather’s voice had ever been.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>“I ORDER YOU TO STAND DOWN!”</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The blows raining down on Adam’s back and arms stopped abruptly as guards grabbed Grandfather’s arms and dragged him away from his grandson.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This man will face trial!” King Alfor proclaimed. “I will not have such reprehensible behavior happening toward my people!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam was still curled on his side, arms thrown over his head. He hadn’t stopped shaking, not even when the blows had stopped. Everyone was shouting, and there were so many angry people in the room, and Adam just wanted to disappear.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then, tiny hands alighted on his shoulders. Adam tensed instinctively, but these hands were much too small to hurt. They weren’t furry and rough like Galra hands, but soft and smooth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The hands helped Adam to his feet and guided him out the door. Adam kept his eyes squeezed shut; he was too scared to look Grandfather in the eye.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They walked until Adam couldn’t hear the shouts anymore; the person leading him leaned him up against the wall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There,” they said softly. “You’ll be safe here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mustering his courage, Adam opened his eyes. A young Altean boy hovered over him, his violet markings gleaming gently in the sunlight. His gray eyes were kind and worried as he watched Adam take him in.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s your name?” The Altean asked, crouching in front of Adam. Close enough to give comfort, but not so close that Adam felt trapped.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A-Adam,” he whispered, his ears still trembling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m Shiro,” the Altean said with a smile. “But you can call me Takashi since we’re friends now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam blinked in surprise, realization setting in a moment later. Oh quiznack. The </span>
  </em>
  <span>prince</span>
  <em>
    <span> had seen him break down. He’d seen Grandfather beat him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Y-Your Highness,” Adam stuttered, trying to rise. “I-I’m sorry-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, wait!” Shiro gently laid his hands on his shoulders, making him sit back again. “I’m not a ‘highness’ yet. Besides, we’re friends. You don’t need to call me that even when I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am</span>
  <em>
    <span> one.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam stared with wide eyes; he’d never had many friends in the past; all the other Galra kits at the training compound thought he was too little, too weird. And here he was, sitting with the crown prince of Altea…his </span>
  </em>
  <span>friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro gently reached forward, brushing the pads of his fingers over Adam’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that still clung to his short fur. Then he stopped. “Whoa, your fur is so soft!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam resisted the urge to whine when Shiro pulled his hands away; he hadn’t been touched so kindly, so gently, since his mother died years ago.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry,” Shiro murmured, looking contrite, “I should have asked before I-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!” Adam yelped, cutting him off; Shiro looked at him in surprise. “I-I don’t mind,” Adam said, quieter this time. “You’re nicer than…than Grandfather.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro’s expression darkened at the mention of Adam’s horrible family member, but he brightened as he gently rubbed a hand over the short fur of Adam’s arm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is so cool,” he breathed. “I’ve never talked to a Galra, and my dad’s bodyguards are too grumpy to let me pet their fur. I’m glad you’re my bodyguard, instead of one of them.” Shiro beamed at Adam. “I like you a lot more than those cranky ones.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something fluttered deep in the pit of Adam’s stomach, and he felt his face grow warm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can touch my scales, if you want,” Shiro said, gesturing to the purple marks on his face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam blinked in surprise, then slowly raised a hand to brush his finger against the scale beneath Shiro’s left eye. He let out a surprised giggle at the cool smoothness of it, so different from his warm fur.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His other hand came up to brush against Shiro’s other scale, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face at the sensation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Watch this,” Shiro said, grinning. The scales began to glow softly, and Adam gasped as they grew warm beneath his touch. The glow faded, and the scales cooled again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam laughed in delight, and Shiro joined him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He may not be the king’s bodyguard, but Adam didn’t mind so much. Not anymore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then a familiar, shouting voice broke him from his bubble of contentment. A prison cart rolled by, led by a procession of guards. And inside was Grandfather, slamming against the bars and bellowing in rage. It didn’t take him long to catch sight of Adam.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’LL KILL YOU!” Grandfather screamed, jabbing a finger at Adam. “YOU’RE DEAD TO ME, YOU HEAR?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro’s hands closed over Adam’s furry ears, gently pressing them to his head so he couldn’t hear Grandfather’s shouts. He shifted in front of Adam so he couldn’t see him, either.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam’s eyes closed, his hands coming up to grip Shiro’s hands, tightly clinging to his wrists.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro stayed there until the cart disappeared around the corner and his grandfather’s screams faded away. Then he slowly removed his hands from Adam’s ears, gently pulling away. Adam cracked his eyes open, still holding onto Shiro’s hands with a tight, desperate grip.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” the prince promised, squeezing Adam’s hands. “You’re part of my family now. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Staring into the prince’s eyes, holding his hands, Adam came to a realization.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He realized he would give his life for this prince, without even hesitating. He would give his life for his friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was three years later, three years of causing mischief with Romelle, joking with Shiro, and braiding Allura’s hair when she wanted someone to make her look pretty.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam may not have been an actual royal child, but the king almost considered the kit to be his own. When he brought gifts for his children, he also brought little treasures for Adam. When the diplomats and politicians weren’t around, he would kneel to Adam’s level and ask how he liked that day’s dessert, or inquire about some of his and Shiro’s escapades.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>By then, Adam had fought off two would-be assassins, saving the young prince’s life both times. Alfor told Adam he was forever grateful to the bodyguard for protecting his children.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam never told him, but it was he who was eternally grateful to the king. He’d taken Adam far away from his old home, where he’d spent countless nights curled on his narrow cot, shivering with cold, trying to quiet the growling of his stomach, still aching from bruises. He’d locked Grandfather up so he could never hurt Adam again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was the father Adam had never had.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So that was why, three years later, racing through the halls of the palace, Adam was so utterly terrified.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The assassins had come in the middle of the day, right during the bodyguard shift change. Shiro, Allura, Romelle, and baby Akira were in the safe room, surrounded by the royal guard to protect them. So Adam raced through the hallways, desperately searching for the king.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He burst into King Alfor’s chambers and froze.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello again, rat,” Grandfather spat at him. He held a sword to King Alfor’s neck, and he grinned maliciously at Adam.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam was frozen in fear, but his training took over. He drew his blades, holding them out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Step away, and you will face a fair trial.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grandfather laughed. “I think not. This is the man who destroyed my life, just because I have a useless rat as a grandson.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor glowered at Grandfather, rage simmering in his blue eyes. “You are scum,” he snarled. “You do not deserve a fair trial.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then Alfor </span>
  </em>
  <span>moved.</span>
  <em>
    <span> He dropped to the ground, sweeping Grandfather’s legs out from beneath him. The Galra fell to the ground with a grunt, and Adam moved in front of Alfor, brandishing his swords.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grandfather propped himself up on one knee, wiping blood from his face. “Hiding behind a rat,” he hissed. “Typical of a king.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor opened his mouth to retaliate, but Adam swiped a sword through the air to stop him. He remembered laughing with Romelle, gossiping with Allura. He remembered playing with baby Akira, and joking with Shiro. He remembered soft hands brushing his fur, cool scales beneath his fingers. And he looked his grandfather in the eye and spoke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t care what you think of me.” His voice was eerily calm, his stance unwavering. “I am not useless. I am not a rat. I am a member of the royal guard, and I will do my job.” He raised his blades to Grandfather’s neck. “Leave now, before I </span>
  </em>
  <span>make </span>
  <em>
    <span>you leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grandfather looked almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>afraid.</span>
  <em>
    <span> He backed away, toward the door, then turned and fled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfor was silent for a long time. Then he smiled down at Adam. “That was very brave,” he said. “I don’t think your grandfather will be bothering us again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam sheathed his blades, turning away. “He isn’t my grandfather.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The two made their way back down the hall. It happened when they turned a corner. Everything slowed down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The silver gleam as the knife sailed through the air. The sharp grin of the Galra, not Grandfather, but one of his friends. The solid </span>
  </em>
  <span>thunk</span>
  <em>
    <span> as the knife found its mark…in the king’s heart.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adam yowled in rage; his blades flashed, and the Galra fell. But it was too late.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A scream sounded from the other end of the hall, and Shiro appeared at his father’s side.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No! Father, wake up! You have to wake up, you can’t leave me here!” Shiro wailed, shaking Alfor’s shoulders in a vain attempt to wake him. The blood pooled from beneath his body, seeping into Shiro’s clothes as he held his father’s body and wailed in agony.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Adam stood there, swords dripping with blood, as the only father he’d ever known died…all because he hadn’t been good enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was six years later, amongst the fire and smoke and screams, as Adam told Shiro to take Akira and run. As Akira looked around, crying out in fear as his world fell apart around him. As Adam raced into battle, casting one last look at his best friend and little brother. The last time he ever saw Akira.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He should have been better. He should have been stronger. He should have been faster. He should have been </span>
  </em>
  <span>better.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The silence was deafening when Adam finally stopped talking. He sniffled, curling into a ball and wrapping his arms around his knees, squeezing his eyes shut; his ears lay flat against his head, trembling. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, his tail curled around his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waiting for me to say something,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro realized. He was waiting for Shiro to tell him how much he hated him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head spun with so many different emotions after everything Adam had told him, but “hate” was not one of them. “Hate” was the farthest thing from his mind; his previous anger had dissipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Shiro leaned forward, gathering Adam into his arms in the tightest, most heartfelt hug he’d ever given in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam stiffened in surprise, his breath stuttering. “Sh-Shiro?” His voice was raw, trembling as much as he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of that was your fault,” Shiro whispered, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“None</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…but I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro said, clutching Adam tighter. “It wasn’t your fault.” He inhaled shakily, tears beginning to carve down his cheeks. Losing his father had been horrible, something from his worst nightmares. But he didn’t blame Adam for it; he never could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even if Adam blamed himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t blame you,” he whispered into Adam’s hair. “And I know he doesn’t, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam let out a sob, curling into Shiro’s embrace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For pushing you away. For-for everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro swallowed, his fingers absently trailing up and down Adam’s spine, through the strip of longer, coarser fur that ran down his back. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured finally. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I should’ve talked to you.” Maybe then Adam wouldn’t have had to carry this burden alone. Ancients and ancestors above, had Adam felt this way for </span>
  <em>
    <span>six years?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam slid his arms around Shiro, hugging him back. “I am so sorry,” he repeated softly. “I-I don’t expect you to forgive me for…avoiding you, and for everything else-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Shiro replied. “I forgive you for everything.” He paused, lips quirking upward in a smile. “Even when you were being an ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam chuckled wetly. “I forgive you, too,” he whispered. His tail curled around Shiro's waist in a comforting, familiar weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there, curled into each other’s embraces, breathing in each other’s scents; Shiro hadn’t been this close to Adam in so long, but he’d never once forgotten what he smelled like. And now…it was like coming home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s shoulders still shook with sobs, Shiro’s nightshirt dampening from his tears. Shiro was crying too. But they were together again. And that was all that mattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They held each other long after their tears dried. Long after their sobs faded to sniffles. And Shiro held Adam long after he fell asleep in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro looked down at him, observing the dark circles beneath his eyes that had been there for the last few months. He’d known Adam wasn’t sleeping well, and now he knew why; Adam had told Shiro about his nightmares, the ones he had every night. The people he had killed, Alfor and Akira, the shadows dragging him into darkness. Sometimes he saw his grandfather, standing over him with his cane. And he was a little kit again, crying and helpless as he was struck again and again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, though, Adam was fast asleep, looking like he’d stay that way for a very long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro gently shifted him so he was curled on the mattress; he pulled the covers over Adam's body before slipping in beside him. The bed was more than big enough to fit them both; they used to have sleepovers, with Adam and all the royal children on one bed. There was plenty of room. Shiro got comfortable, on his side facing Adam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Galra’s hair was long, longer than Allura’s; he usually wore it in braids to keep it out of his face, but now it was loose around his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shiro brushed the loose strands away from Adam’s face, stroking the soft fur of his ears. Adam shifted, leaning into his touch with a content, sleepy hum. Tear tracks still carved down his cheeks, and Shiro gently wiped them away with his knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been an ache inside, ever since that awful night. Ever since he and Adam began to drift apart. It had grown with each passing day of searching fruitlessly for his little brother, of Adam’s cold, distant gaze that never stayed on Shiro for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Adam’s chest rose and fell, and his fingers curled around Shiro’s sleeve in his sleep, Shiro felt some of that ache disappearing, fading away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still didn’t have Akira. His baby brother was still gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Adam was back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And right then, that was enough.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Touch-starved Adam? Touch-starved Adam</p><p>I didn't give Adam's grandfather a name because he doesn't deserve one</p><p>Alfor really did see a sad Galra child and go "yup he's my son now," didn't he</p><p>THEY TALKED IT OUT I'M SO PROUD OF THEM!!! I gave y'all some fluffy comfort at the end, because let's face it, those boys deserve it and so do we :')</p><p>I am in no way finished with the angst in this story, but from now on they will be facing most of the angst together!!! &lt;3&lt;3</p><p>Thanks for reading, luvs!! Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you think, and be sure to keep an eye out for a new Klance oneshot coming February 1st (the first oneshot of many!) &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://risingmoonsettingsun.tumblr.com/">Come chat with me!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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